


Speaking his Language

by GroovyKat



Series: Gallifrey [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Baby Fic, F/M, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:42:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 93
Words: 430,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22469572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GroovyKat/pseuds/GroovyKat
Summary: When Rose Tyler runs because of an adventure gone awry, she ends up deep inside the TARDIS of another Doctor.  He takes off before he realizes he has a stowaway on board and ends up on a planet Rose never thought she'd ever get to see.   When he finds his little stowaway, and sees her current state, he finds out that this is not going to be as simple as just taking her back to himself......Especially when she's undecided whether or not she wants to go back to him at all.
Relationships: Eighth Doctor/Rose Tyler, Irving Braxiatel/Romana (Doctor Who), Ninth Doctor/Rose Tyler, Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Series: Gallifrey [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1754998
Comments: 1280
Kudos: 773





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Damn, it's been a minute, eh? I've been slogged down with real life stuff, and finally found a moment to get back to it. I've been uninspired of late -- especially with the hatred and vitriol I'm seeing across the DW fandom of late. Wow, people can be mean to each other, can't they?
> 
> Anyhoo. I found this lurking on m y hard-drive, and thought "Oh yeah, that's right! I liked this one a little bit." so, I decided to finally post it.
> 
> Only posting a wee bit of it right now, though ... because ... the next bit is kind've out of the ordinary for me in terms of ... ehm ... racy stuff, so I have to really psych myself up to actually post it.
> 
> Is this a smut piece? No. Sorry. That's really not my thing... But there are one or more parts of this that push my racy boundary a bit.

Tears stung her eyes and blurred her vision as Rose Tyler fled across an alien plain toward the waiting TARDIS. The wild winds whipped that up around her; thick with dust and debris that raked harshly across her skin, forced her to run with her forearm up to shield her eyes from the storm. It was a futile effort. It did very little to save her tender skin from the sting of cutting impact of sharp tiny little particles on attack.

…This was the storm that the Doctor had warned her was on approach. His voice was thick with warning that she should keep away from once it struck. As was typical for her, though, she didn’t listen… or more accurately, she _ignored_ his warning.

“Many planets have routine and sometimes daily weather occurrences,” he’d lectured at the time as they’d walked hand in hand toward a large township as the base of the hill. “Sometimes they’re welcomed, other times they’re not. This area of Crandinia experiences an evening breeze at the same time every day. _Well_. I say _breeze_ , but it’s more like a violent barrage of winds, dust, dirt, sand, and anything else that gets in its way.” He swallowed hard and sounded slightly strangled when he spoke again. “Best not to be out when it picks up. Not unless you’re in for some high-powered natural forms of supreme exfoliation, of course. Nothing like sandblasting your face to achieve smooth skin …ehm … more accurately, it would be more a weeping, oozing and sticky open wound than smooth and perfect skin.”

“Sounds delightful,” she sang facetiously inside a purr as she nestled against his side and took in the rick purple sky and the orange-yellow landscape. “Where do I sign up?”

He’d chuckled at that and staggered in a mite bit closer as though to bump his hip against hers. They were already paired too closely together for it to be too effective. All he managed to do was to have her stumble in the same way he was, making them look like a pair of drunkards heading home from a night out. He caught her before she could fall and laughed against her hair as she collapsed into laugher against his shoulder…

… it all quickly went to hell from there.

That daft, reckless alien had made a gross error of judgment and now had a Crandinian wife, Crandinian land, and a demand to sire an heir before dawn. As the psychic paper had named her as being the Doctor’s “assistant”, she had been tasked with standing at the bedside to verify that the – err – _act_ of siring a child had been performed.

Well, there was no way in any realm of reality that Rose was going to bear witness to any such act. She never believed for a second that the Doctor would actually engage in the same… But then she saw his new wife pull him against her and initiate a passionate open-mouthed kiss, and although he clearly startled by the sudden onslaught of passion, he didn’t immediately pull away…

She didn’t bother to stick around to see anything more, and so she ran. 

She ran fast, and she ran hard. She ignored his voice calling out her name in panic, telling him to sod off as she burst out of the house and into the heart of the storm.

“No-one,” he’d warned her earlier in their adventure, “No-one steps out into the storm. Most that have, have never returned without severe pain and injury.”

She immediately understood why. The winds were wild and violent, and the debris within merciless in their assault against her. She felt immediate and blinding physical pain that made her consider turning back to head to safety. Bullheaded as she was, however, she pushed on. The physical hurt a lot less than the emotional right now, and she had no desire at all to witness the _desire_ that was now swirling inside the home.

No. All she wanted now was the TARDIS. She wanted the TARDIS and a bag to pack her things … Because she was done with this. Done with that stupid, flirty, egoistic, oblivious, thoughtless alien git.

~~oooOOOooo~~

She felt the TARDIS hum in her mind before she saw the blue outline of the ship in the near distance. While the old girl was always present as a quiet and happy hum in the back of her mind when they were off-ship, that presence always intensified a little as she drew closer to it. Like a homing beacon, she assumed with a smile. The closer she drew, the louder the ship hummed in her mind. Right now, though, that hum seemed a little off; slightly different in pitch than usual. 

_Sentient_ , Rose reminded herself. _She knows I’m upset because the Doctor’s being a sod_. Yes. That had to be it _._

She didn’t look up as she pulled the key from between her bosom and blindly tried to find the lock. Once, twice, and then three times she poked at the small metal plate surrounding the small lock opening. Fourth time lucky, and she found herself apologising to the TARDIS when she finally slid the key into place and turned it to open the door. It did so with a somewhat reluctant creak, but very quickly gave up the reluctance and flew open with a bang. 

Still blinded by tears with eyes stinging from sand and dust, and couldn’t lift her head to the ceiling to say thanks. Instead she rubbed at her stinging eyes with filthy shirt sleeves and ran a familiar path toward the main corridor toward her bedroom, the library, whichever room she happened upon first.

Her mind was suddenly alive with a sense of shock and confusion from the ship, which quickly warmed to familiarity and welcome, then downshifted again toward worry. Rose waved her arm toward the wall and muttered her assurance that the Doctor was fine – that he was just being an inconsiderate cad – and felt that worry shift to comfort and apology.

Not that she’d been particularly successful in maintaining any control of her emotions to this point, but the TARDIS’ attempt to comfort and apologise to her only made that control much harder to maintain. She ran into the first doorway she came to – the library – and fell to her knees on the floor in front of the couch. She buried her face into a circle of her arms and sobbed. She sobbed for both the physical and the emotional pain she felt.

“I hate him,” she sobbed to the TARDIS in a voice muffled by the thick cushion pressed against her face. “I hate him…”

~~oooOOOooo~~

For the second time in only moments, the TARDIS was startled by her doors flying inward. Her thief had ventured out only a few short moments ago, and she thought she might have a few moments to herself to heal the wounds of their last adventure. To rest, and then to recover.

As usual, no such luck.

First, a distraught companion had breached the doors and taken refuge, and now her Thief had returned, with his mind in much the same condition … although more angered than distraught. She prepared a warning to him, but was quickly silenced by a growl of displeasure and his heavy footfalls stomping their way toward her main console.

“A vacation,” he growled with annoyance. “That is what I wanted. I wanted a quiet moment of contemplation to reflect and to recharge myself. Somewhere peaceful.” He flipped a switch and twisted a dial. “But do you think that would be in any way possible? No. Of course not. I had to land in the middle of a tornado the size of Arcadia.” He flipped another switch and then threw hard at the dematerialisation lever with angry movements. “And my ship. My _sentient_ ship, didn’t bother letting me know just where we landed and let me walk out of the doors with no warning at all as to what was coming.”

He looked up as the rotor shifted and then whined. “That would have been appreciated, you know,” he growled. “And as you couldn’t find it within you to give me a heads up, or perhaps do what you normally do and defy my coordinate inputs completely to make sure I didn’t walk into _that_ , well, I’m cross with you. More cross than I have been in a long while, dear.”

He brushed at the sleeves of his coat with a curl in his lip. “It will take a miracle to get all of this dirt out of my clothing.” He saw a rip on the sleeve and grunted as he slid the garment off his shoulders and let it fall unceremoniously to the floor. “Well. That’s determined the next decision I’ll have to make, hasn’t it? I’ll have to consider a new wardrobe now that this one’s been ruined because my ship was too inconsiderate to – “ He let up a yelp when the ship lurched to one side and he fell hard against the console. “What in the name of Rassilon’s ghost, old girl? Are you being deliberately testy today?”

The rotor continued to rise and fall, and the ship was clearly in flight, but the console room flashed a light mauve of warning to him. This quickly had the Doctor lowering his voice and narrowing his eyes at the console. 

“What is it?” he asked her darkly in a voice smooth and quiet. A monitor lit up, and the Doctor leaned forward with eyes narrowed in concentration. “You don’t seem worried, yet you’re giving me a warning. What about? What’s wrong?”

The monitor flickered a little with static, but quickly cleared to show an image of a young woman on her knees in front of his couch, in obvious distress. He gagged slightly, and then looked up at the rotor. “We have a stowaway?” he queried with worry. “You let a strange woman aboard my ship, and then let me take you into flight? Are you insane?”

He let his arms fall to his sides and let out an exasperated huff. “Why do you keep doing that? Why do you let people on board and then fly away? Don’t you know the problems this causes to them? To _me_ when I try to get them home?”

He felt her give a huff in his mind. “Need I remind you of Tegan?” he growled. “And what we did to her before we finally got her home?”

He raked his hand through his hair and then dragged it down his face. He let out a long-suffering breath and turned toward the corridor. “Land gently, will you? I don’t need to startle the poor girl.” He lifted a finger to point at the wall. “And don’t lose the coordinates of where you found her. We _will_ take her back to her proper place in time and space, dear. Mark my words on that. I’ve no time for a new companion right now.” He scowled toward the floor. “Not now.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

She had no idea just how long she’d been in a mess on the library floor. It had to be some time, however, as she’d felt the ship take flight. That had to mean that the Doctor had returned – likely with his new wife in tow – and had immediately set new coordinates. She huffed out wetly as she considered just where they were headed. Back home, no less. Now that he had a new bride, he had no need of her.

She knew she should attempt to compose herself, but felt herself unable to do so. Just the thought of what was to come next had her emotions spiralling further and further out of control. She didn’t want to leave, but she didn’t want to become a third wheel either.

God her heart hurt.

Composing herself any time soon was not going to be an option of any kind. Hopefully she could rely on the TARDIS to keep him away from her until she could find some semblance of control.

A deep clearing of a throat to her rear told her that the TARDIS didn’t have any such intentions.

She said the first thing that came to mind without lifting her head to look at him. “Go away.”

“Uhm…”

She clenched her fists beside her ears and slammed her forearms into the cushion surrounding her head. “I mean it, Doctor. I don’t wanna talk to you right now.”

There was an exhale of breath that was a dawning of understanding, and whomever was at the doorway slowly walked further into the room. “You don’t wish to talk right now,” he drawled gently. “But how about a little earlier on?”

The voice was quiet, slightly unfamiliar, but she ignored those points to focus on her confusion about what the hell he was on about. She finally lifted her head and twisted her back to finally look in his direction, “What’re you on—“ Her eyes widened with horror to see not her doctor, but a rather handsome man with gorgeous curly hair, soulful blue eyes, a curious pout, and an outfit that looked straight out of the early nineteenth century. 

“Well, hello,” he sang out happily with a waggle of his fingers.

Rose shook her head and shifted her entire body in a futile attempt to back away from him – right back into the couch she was leaned against. “Who’re you?! Don’t you dare come any closer. I mean it!”

He held up his hands in a submissive gesture and lightly petted them in the air in front of his chest. “Okay, it’s okay. I’m not a stranger ready to do anything of an … err .. _nefarious_ nature toward you.”

She clumsily wiped at her eyes with the dirty backs of her hands and shook her head. She was still clearly panicked and ready to defend and bolt if necessary. “Like you’d even ‘ave a chance,” she growled. “Now, I asked you: Who are you, and what’re you doin’ on the TARDIS? How’d you get in?”

Oh he admired the brave façade that she was trying to project. If it wasn’t for the adrenaline and fear that he could smell in the air, he may have felt somewhat intimidated….

…Well may be not _intimidated_. Slightly on his guard, perhaps.

He kept one hand held up in surrender, and let the other slide into a small pocket on his waistcoat. He produced a shiny metal object and held it up for her to see. “I got in with my key,” he answered gently. “This is my TARDIS, after all. Yours,” he began with a small hint of a smile, ”is still waiting for you on Crandinia.”

Her entire expression lengthened in horror. Her hands flew to her mouth. “I - I got on the wrong TARDIS?”

He nodded and set the key back into his pocket. “It would certainly appear so, as you and I have not yet met.” He pursed his lips and wiped his hand on his thigh. “Which must be rectified immediately.” He took a stride forward with his hand held out. He paused when he saw her flinch to his approach, but kept his hand outstretched. “I’m the Doctor – an earlier version of the one I believe you’re currently travelling with.”

She stammered out his name with a shake in her head. “N-no, you can’t be. He. He’s…”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Ahh, yes. Regeneration. I suspect you haven’t been forewarned of that little eventuality.”

“Oh,” she cut in with a strengthening tone of voice. “I know about that. I’ve seen him go through one.”

“Ahh…”

“But he wasn’t in any danger back there,” she continued on with a point of her hand behind her. “Not anythin’ that would have him regenerate, anyway...” She paused on that line of thought for a second, and then smirked. “Well. At least not until he returned to the TARDIS at any rate.” She rolled her eyes. “Then, just who knows what fate awaits him?”

His lips pursed and he exhaled a breath through them. “I see,” he began quietly. “This tells me that I am the one who is causing you such distress, then. And that is unacceptable.” He forgot about personal space, and her need for it, and quickly walked toward the couch to drop onto it at her side. When she gasped and shuffled backward he held out his hand to her. “Well, up you come.”

She looked first at his hand, then at him, with a furrow in between her brows. “Excuse me?”

“We’ve established that I’m the friendly sort and am not here to kidnap and harm you.” He lifted his eyes to the ceiling. “Well. That is to say, harm is not permitted, the kidnapping thing .. _well_ ,,,”

“I felt her take off,” Rose said quietly.

He nodded and wiggled his fingers at her in a request for her to take his hand and let him assist her to her feet. “I’m afraid that I set new coordinates before the TARDIS deemed it necessary to advise me that you were onboard.” He gave a one sided smile of apology. “But pay no mind to that. I can quite easily take you back to where you were picked up….”

“Not if you really are the Doctor,” she said with almost a chuckle. “N’my experience, he’s not all that good in getting to where he actually intends on going.”

He gave up waiting for her to take his hand and leaned forward to simply snatch hers within his. “Although I know what you say is rather spot on, I am still trying very hard not to take offence to that.”

She finally let him lift her to a stand. After a hesitant skip from one foot to the other, she gave a firm nod and then took a seat at the opposite end of the couch to him. “So you are really the Doctor, then?”

He nodded, thankful that she was coming closer toward trust and understanding. “I am.”

“How do I know you’re not lyin’?” she challenged with a slight narrowing of her eyes.

He smirked at the challenge she offered, but opted not to step up to it. “As I am from a point earlier than when you seem to have met me, that might be quite difficult to do.”

“I suppose so,” she acquiesced with a nod. She slid her eyes toward him. “So you’re just going to have to expect me to simply trust you on it.”

“That certainly would make things easier,” he agreed with a relieved exhale and a smile. He leaned closer to her and gave her a wink. “So tell me: Do you trust me?”

Any shadow of a smile fell at that. Her eyes misted over once more and she shook her head. “I used to,” she admitted. “I don’t know if I do now.”

His expression shifted to one of being taken aback. His voice was startled and slightly horrified to hear that. “Just _what_ did I do to you?” he questioned with worry.

Rose winced and then slumped as she looked upward toward the ceiling. “Oh. I don’t know if that’s entirely true,” she admitted. “He didn’t do anything untrustworthy, really. At least not to me.” She sighed hard again. “I just. I just don’t know. I’m hurt. I’m real hurt. But I can’t even really blame ‘im for it. Just because I _think_ that we might be _more’n_ …” She winced again. “Just because I…” She dropped and shook her head. “I guess I’m just expectin’ something from him that he’s not prepared to give.”

He frowned a little. “Oh-kay,” he breathed out with only a small ounce of confusion in his voice. “I _think_ I’m keeping up here.”

“I don’t even think _I’m_ keeping up,” she admitted ruefully. She dragged her hand down over her face. “This one, well, he’s a flirt and then some. Good looking to boot, which makes him a favourite with the ladies.”

“When you say _this one_ ,” he gravelled out curiously. “Does this mean you know more than one of me?”

She nodded and chuckled. “Typical. Focus on the wrong bits of a comment.”

“Oh, we’ll get back to that,” he vowed. “But for you to make that very particular distinction means that you’ve met more than one of me – perhaps even travelled with more than one – and you’re seeing the differences between one and the other that is giving you problems.”

She let out a harsh laugh. “My problem isn’t that there’s a difference between them, between my first and second Doctor. I can deal with that. My problem is _what_ the difference is.”

“I see,” he ventured cautiously. “Do go on.”

Rose lifted her head to the ceiling once more and let out a long breath through an open mouth before continuing. “First him,” she remembered with smile. “Well. All gruff and grumpy he was. Pretended to be all mean and gnarly, but was just a big teddy bear really.”

The Doctor peeped uncomfortably at that. “In all my lives, one thing I’ve never been described as is a big teddy bear.”

She looked down at him. Her voice was firm. “Well. Well, he was. An’ I loved him. All big ears and nose, and baggy clothes.” She softened her tone. “He treated me like I meant something to him, you know? Like the sun and moon rose with me. Made me feel like I was important – even when getting’ mad and calling me a stupid ape, I always knew it was him and me.” She looked away. “And he gave the best hugs.”

The Doctor’s eyes flashed wide. “Hugs? You and I, we shared _hugs_?”

Her smile stretched and she purred. “Yeah. Lots of them.”

His voice pinched and lifted an octave. “Did we. Err. Did we _share_ anything else?”

He grin grew cheeky. “You mean did we _dance_ , Doctor?”

He squeaked, but could do more but nod.

“That’s _my_ secret,” she said softly, taking her eyes from his. “And not somethin’ I want to share with a stranger, even if you _are_ him.”

“So when you say the word _love_ in reference toward your feelings for him, it’s not at a platonic level of mere friendship, is it?”

She shook her head. “I was in-love with him. Arse over teakettle, really. An’ I think he loved me too, you know. He gave up a life just to save mine. He kissed me. He kissed me when he knew I needed it most and with that sweet gentle way about him that he could get when it was just me’n him together.” She giggled. “Cheesy, really. He said c’mere, that I need a doctor, then planted one on me.”

The Doctor’s mouth dried at the revelation.

She slumped. “And then he regenerated. Right in front of me. Went from bein’ a man who was considerate to me an’ my presence, to making sure I knew how he felt even if he never actually said it with words….” She inhaled deeply and held on to that breath for a long moment. “To bein’…”

“To being a man who was reprehensible enough that he would have you referring to your love for him in past tense,” the Doctor supplied gravely. “And have you curled up on the floor of my library with your heart shattered all around you.”

She dropped her head again and nodded, closing her eyes over her tears. “My love isn’t past tense, Doctor,” she admitted sadly. “I wouldn’t hurt this much if I didn’t love him like I do. His love for me, however….” She let that thought hang for a second in the hope he would offer something, anything at all. He didn’t, so she continued. “His affection shifted when he discovered himself to be a bit of a fit bloke who the ladies all clamoured around.” She lifted her eyes to look at the doorway. “Born again flirt, I guess. I became a second thought, rather than his first, and sometimes being so easily forgotten was how I ended up a damsel in distress on more than one occasion.”

He watched her blink free a tear from her lashes and found himself reaching out to take her hand in his. He wasn’t at all surprised that she accepted the comfort by squeezing his hand in return. He chose to remain silent, however. Waiting for any sign from her that she was willing to let him speak. 

“I’m guessing that when he changed, he regenerated any feelings that he ‘ad for me away as well.”

He hummed with a slight shake in his head. “No. That’s not how regenerations work, dear. If they did, then no marriage or partnership on Gallifrey would survive from one life to the next.” He looked down at the join of their hands let the pad of his thumb drag along hers. “Regenerations are – for the most part – physical. It does tend to give us a bit of a restart in the personality department, but our thoughts, feelings, and memories … they don’t change. They’re the very core of who we are, and who we become each time we face death and regeneration.”

“So your feelings don’t change? Not at all?” she queried weakly.

“No,” he affirmed. “In all my regenerations, and I’ve been through seven of them to this point, it’s really only the quirks and the outer package that change. At my core, I’ve remained the same man, with the same thoughts, memories, and feelings remaining intact.”

Her hands quickly came up to cover her mouth. “Oh, God,” she moaned pathetically. “Oh my God. Then that means…” Her breath shortened to pants. “I-I’ve got to go.”

He flinched as she shot up to a stand and launched into a run toward the door. Immediately he shot up to follow her. He would have called after her, but right now, he didn’t even know her name, so he was forced to run and only call out to her to wait.

He looked up toward the ceiling to speak to his ship. “If we’re still in the vortex, for the love of Rassilon, keep those doors closed,” he demanded. “No. Amend that to: Don’t let her out under any circumstances.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Rose ran toward the console room, and toward the doors that would let her out of the TARDIS. Remembrance that the ship had been set into flight and that running out of her doors would mean certain death didn’t stop her from running. She needed out of the ship, and she needed it now.

She could hear him calling for her to wait as he followed her along the corridor, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. His words to her, his assurance that the very heart of him doesn’t change during regeneration … oh, but they drove home a truth that she simply refused to believe…

…and all of a sudden she felt so incredibly foolish. He doesn’t love her now, and he didn’t love her then. How could she possibly have thought otherwise? How could she possibly have let herself believe that he – a 900 year old Lord of Time – could truly find himself falling in love with her: a mere human child … a dumb, stupid ape?

Once again, Rose ran across the threshold of an expansive room toward the front doors. And once again, her emotions blinded her to the majesty of the room that surrounded her. All she saw was the cylindrical light of the time rotor, and the outline of the front doors.

Behind her, the Doctor called out for her to stop, to wait, and to let him speak. She ignored his plea and clutched hard at the handle that would pull those doors inward to let her out toward freedom. She didn’t consider just what kind of freedom she’d actually get on the other side, and just how long she’d experience that freedom before being arrested and thrown into an alien gaol, but she didn’t care. As long as it wasn’t where _he was_ , where he could judge the feeble mind of a lovelorn child buried under the agony of an unrequited love…

…How could she have been so foolish to believe…?

She choked back a sob and ripped the door open, surprised that the TARDIS would even allow her to do so, and burst out into the warm glow of twin suns shining down onto red grasses dotted with the lavender blooms of flowers whose fragrance saturated the air around her.

Awe battled with misery, and Rose looked up, rather than down as she ran across the grass, not noticing she was headed toward the very edge of a cliff until it was far too late for her to stop. She let out a screech of terror as her feet skidded on dew-wet grasses that refused to let her stop. She instinctively called out the _only_ name she could when she saw her life about to end, and very quickly two strong arms curled around her waist to haul her up against a heaving chest.

“I’ve got you.”

The words against her ear were calm and in complete contradiction to the panic of the situation. She felt his grip tighten, their bodies lock together, and their movement shift direction. As one, they spun away from the rocky edge of the cliff and fell backwards onto the grass. One of her shoes kicked off and shot across the edge of the cliff to fall into the deep canyon below, but the rest of her remained safe atop the cliff, and inside the arms of a man that, despite which body he was in, would always be there to pull her from danger.

She fell apart at that moment. Torn by embarrassment, by heartbreak, by relief, and by fear, she clutched onto the silken fabric at his throat and sobbed into his chest. She felt his hearts thunder a rapid beat against her nose as he tightened his hold around her quivering, wracking form.

Words of apology and words of comfort danced at the tip of his tongue, but the Doctor opted to remain silent. Words weren’t what this dear young woman needed right now. Comfort and assurance, yes, but not with words. He could provide such support in a protective embrace that would refuse to release her until he knew without a doubt that her emotions had cooled, and that the unpredictable impulses of a devastated Human female would not cause her further harm or distress… No matter how long it took.

And it didn’t take terribly long for her to finally calm down. He could feel when the terror had finally left her bones. He could practically taste when her embarrassment fled and her hurt was waning. While he knew without a doubt that the hurt would never depart completely until the source of that hurt was dealt with, he knew it had ebbed back enough that this young woman could function again rationally. 

Sobs quickly became whimpers, and then whimpers shifted to soft sighs. Sighs became words, and he heard her thank him for saving her, for not letting her fall.

“That’s something I would never do,” he whispered against her hair.

“I know you wouldn’t,” she admitted softly. “You’d fall before I did.”

He chuckled softly. “And something tells me that you wouldn’t let me fall, either.”

“Not if I can help it, at any rate.”

There was silence for a moment. They laid on the grass, with only the tinkling of silver leaves in the wind, and the chirp of birds off in the distance to break the otherwise deafening quiet. And he was fine with that for now. Fine to hear her soft breaths, and to keep her safely within his arms.

“I’m Rose, by the way,” she muttered finally in a voice so quiet he almost missed it.

He looked down at the crown of her head. “I’m sorry?”

“Rose,” she repeated without lifting her head, too content to listen to the beating of his hearts rather than look up into his face.

“Rose,” he echoed wistfully. “A beautiful name, for an equally beautiful woman.”

She moaned at that. “Oh, don’t start with that rubbish. Boring name more like.”

“Whether or not something is beautiful or boring is rather subjective, don’t you think?” he asked with a smile in his voice. “I happen to love the simplistic, and yet very symbolic nature of the word.”

“Oh shut up,” she growled playfully. Her chuckle shifted to an apologetic sigh, but she still didn’t look up at him. “I’m sorry, Doctor. To this you, and to the you‘s that I know.” She sighed. “I don’t know why I felt it as strongly as I did. Why I truly and without a doubt thought that you felt the same about me that I did for you.” She inhaled deeply and held onto him just a little bit more fiercely. “You’ve never said it to me, but I just knew, you know? I felt it so strongly.”

He remained silent. Thoughtful and silent. 

“Wishful thinking, I guess,” she deduced with a quiet voice. 

The Doctor considered her words for a long moment. He thought about her sureness of his feeling toward her and of the utter devastation to realise that those feelings weren’t true. Such intense devastation wasn’t appropriate in this instance. She should be upset, yes, but not to the point of such severe desolation. There had to be another explanation, because this just wasn’t right.

A likely explanation dawned and he felt his hearts flutter just slightly at the possibility.

Could it be?

With cautious tone and a slight hitch in his breath, he spoke the words of his people along her hair. It was a series of melodic, soft sounds that curled in the air around them, and silenced the twinkling leaves above them as though nature herself wanted to see what came next.

He felt her shudder in his hold at his words. He heard her sigh and relax against him. More than anything, however, he felt a tickle in his soul and a warming inside his chest.

She hummed out appreciatively against his chest. “That’s beautiful, Doctor. But can you please tell me what you’re saying? I’ve asked you before, but you refuse to translate it for me.”

He bit at his lip and held onto his breath for a moment. He felt a wave of emotion crash from head to toe and let out a shuddered breath. “I’ve said it to you before?”

She lifted her head to look up at him. “I-I think so,” she answered, suddenly unsure. “It’s not like I know your language or anything like that, so he – you – could have said something else, but I’m pretty sure that was it. I really don’t think it’s the first time I’ve heard it.” She blinked at him. “Can you repeat it? I’ll close my eyes and really concentrate on it.”

“Oh-Okay,” he breathed out. “But look at me. Don’t close your eyes. Keep them on me.” With a gaze straight into hers that locked them almost as one, he repeated his words. Slowly, clearly, with conviction and a fierceness she’d never heard before, the words moved between them.

She gasped in a whimper and once again shuddered against him. She was near breathless when she licked her lips and nodded. “Yeah,” she squeaked. “Yeah, that’s it. It always gives me a shiver when I hear it. So beautiful.”

He gulped deeply. “Which me said it to you?”

“Both,” she answered without falter. “And more’n once.” A smile stretched across her face. “the first you said it for the first time after Downing Street. We survived that mess, got back to the TARDIS, and he stood at the doorway and said it to me when I got to the console all ready to run into our next adventure. Looked me straight in the eye, said it, and then closed the door and told me it was time for the human to sleep. I heard it a couple’a times after that. I asked him to translate, and he told me it was nothing important and not to worry about it.”

“Well, that’s not entirely accurate,” he corrected. “Not even partially accurate. But do go on. What about the me that you’re with now?”

She looked away in thought for a moment, but quickly shifted her gaze back to his. “First time he hugged me, actually. Not even a day after he regenerated.”

He nodded. “And since?”

She shrugged. “Every time he hugs me, I’d guess. Which is a lot.” She smirked. “He’s a cuddler this time around. Always giving hugs.” Her lips curled with distaste. “He’s also an insufferable flirt who will schmooze up to anything wearing a skirt.”

“That,” he managed over a swallow, “is a new trait.”

“Yeah, well, is snogging a new one as well?” she queried petulantly. “Because he’s getting good at that, too.”

“With you?” he ventured hopefully. “And only you, right?”

Rose finally pulled herself away from him. She shook her head as she wiped now sweated palms against her thighs. “Not with me at all, actually,” she muttered. “No snogging for the Doctor and Rose. But snogging and _dancing_ with Madame du Pompadour is certainly okay and worth bragging about.”

The Doctor choked and made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. He shook his head in short and almost robotic movements: quick and static. “No. No. There wasn’t any _dancing_ , he managed tightly. None at all. I can assure you, Rose, that any activities of that very specific nature did not happen.”

Rose lifted her eyes to the ceiling and let out a sharp laugh. “Oh. Why? Because you’re going to remember this little conversation in – _oh_ – how many centuries from now, and make sure he doesn’t?” She rolled her eyes. “Fat chance of you sticking to that when you meet a fancrush that views sex as a fun past time and not something sacred to be shared between two people who actually love each other.”

He sat up and closed his eyes as he digested her words. “Is that what you believe,” he asked her firmly. “That love, and the making of, is sacred?”

She looked to her knees. “Time was I really didn’t,” she admitted. “I thought it was something that was just required in a relationship, or to have a short bit of fun. I didn’t think that it was supposed to be something special.” She shrugged. “But back when I thought that I was young and stupid and dating a guy who was older and …” She inhaled and stopped herself. “But bein’ around you – the older you’s I mean – well, I couldn’t imagine ever … no … not with anyone else. Not ever again.”

“So you and me…?”

She reddened and looked off to one side. “I’m not answerin’ that question, Doctor, so stop askin’.” Her eyes remained off in the distance at a small bird preening itself on a tree branch. “But it’s because of him – my first Doctor – that I realized just how sacred love really is. Even the thought of bein’ touched by anyone else makes me feel sick inside.”

“And right now, I think I know the feeling,” he said softly, inaudibly. Her eyes flashed and she questioned what he’d said. He waved it off with a shrug and a shake of his head. “Nothing. Nothing important.” He moved closer to her and licked at his lip. “But I feel that you should know one thing, Rose. And this is something that is, indeed, important.”

She nodded. “Go on.”

He licked at his lips and watched his hand as he used the tip of his finger to curl her hair behind her ear. His eyes remained there. “When a Gallifreyan choses a mate,” he began gently.

“What’s a Gallifreyan?” she queried with a confused furrow in her brow.

That took him aback slightly. “A Gallifreyan is who I am, Rose.”

“No,” she corrected. “You’re a Time Lord. That’s what you told me you were.”

“Yes. A Time Lord,” he agreed. “A Time Lord from Gallifrey, which makes me Gallifreyan by birth, Time Lord by designation.”

“Gallifrey,” she repeated quietly to herself. “That’s where you’re from? Gallifrey. But it sounds so, so _Irish_. Not nearly as pompous as it should sound considering you lot call yourselves Lords.”

“London doesn’t exactly sound like a regal locale.”

“Good point.” She smiled. “But go on, tell me about Gallifrey.”

He seemed very confused. “Have I not ever mentioned to you what planet I’m from? Have I never brought you here before today?”

Her eyes flashed open as wide as her jaw. She inhaled through that open mouth and leapt immediately to her feet to take in her surroundings. “This is it? _This_ , where we’re standing, is _Gallifrey_ : The Doctor’s home planet?” Her hands flew to her mouth and she let out a sound of utter appreciation. “Oh my God. It. It’s so beautiful.” She spun toward him, eyes wide, and dropped her hands. The smile across her face he could only describe as being absolutely magnificent, and it took his breath for a moment as she continued. “You mean it exists? It truly exists. Now? Here and now?”

He frowned. “Well. Well of course it does, dear. It has been here since before the dawn of your time, and will remain here until both you and I have been gone for millennia.” He tipped his head at her. “Why would you think otherwise?”

Again her eyes widened. That’s right, this Doctor was the one before hers – the one who destroyed it all. Her voice squeaked just slightly. “Oh. No reason. Just. He never speaks about it, I guess.” She pointed to the grass and flowers at their feet. “But would you mind if I take some cuttings or seeds? Is it illegal to do that?”

He looked at her with an expression of mistrust on that, but it lasted only a moment. “It’s not illegal,” he began slowly. “You’re free to take samples from any specimen around here if you desire. Completely unnecessary of course, all you have to do is ask me, and I’ll happily bring you here.”

Her smile faltered. “Oh, I don’t quite know about that. I really don’t think so.”

“Well, why not?”

She inhaled deeply and held onto that breath a moment as she tried to think of how not to tell him that in his future Gallifrey doesn’t exist anymore. “Uhm. Well… You see…”

Understanding dawned and he nodded. “Oh, I see,” he began with a knowing huff. “I’ve been exiled again, have I?”

Her smile returned and showed a sliver of amusement. “Exiled _again_? Have you gotten into mischief and upset council before?”

He threw his head back with a laugh. “Oh, my dear girl. I don’t think they’re ever been _not upset_ with me.”

“Rebel,” she accused with humour.

“I prefer to call myself a renegade,” he corrected. The smile remained on his face. “So how long this time? And have I shared with you the story of why I’m not allowed back to Gallifrey?”

“No,” she breathed out in song. “But I’d love to hear yours.”

He let out a laugh. “When I return you to me. Simply ask my older self that I regale you about my ever persistent and effective ways of annoying those who are seated on council. I’m sure I’ll happily share all for you. Each day a new tale.”

Her smile faltered again. “Well. To be honest with you. I don’t imagine our time together will be that much longer. Not now that he’s got himself a new companion – his wife.”

His eyes blew wide. “His _what?_ ”

“Wife,” she affirmed with a sad sigh. “He just got himself married on that planet we just left, you know, the home of the tornado from hell?”

“Crandinia,” he supplied.

“Yeah,” she said with a nod. “They were just about to get in the act to sire an heir together when I took my leave. Scarpered when the snogging started.”

“Scarpered,” he repeated. “And found your way to my TARDIS with your heart splintered into a thousand pieces.”

Her lips pursed outward and the tears began to form again. She nodded by way of answering. “Yeah.”

“So you weren’t there to actually witness it?”

She half gagged at that. Her eyes widened and she shook her head with a look of absolute abhorrence on her face. “I’d rather not, ta,” she drawled disgustedly. “Not my thing, voyeurism.” She gestured toward him with a flick of her hand. “You might get off on things like that, but not me.”

He opened his mouth to counter her remark, but quickly closed his mouth again when she continued to speak.

“Men,” she huffed. “All about watchin’ porn and naked women.” She set her hands on her hips and actually waggled a finger at him. “Well I’m having none of that nonsense, ta. None at all.”

This time it was the Doctor’s turn to flare eyes in an expression of surprise. “Not quite what I meant, Rose,” he breathed out hoarsely. “In fact quite the opposite.” His eyes blinked rapidly as his mind provided him with rather graphic imagery conjured to accompany Rose’s rant. He shuddered. “Very much not what I was alluding to at all.”

Rose’s eyes were wide in challenge, and she didn’t take her hands from her hips. She merely humphed to tell him to fully outline _exactly_ what he’d originally intended to say.

He took that challenge with an embarrassed clearing of his throat. “Yes. Well. As. As I was saying. Earlier…” He lifted his hand to rub at the back of his neck. He could feel the heat of embarrassment creep up his spine. “What I meant to explain…”

“Are…?” Rose blurted with surprise and definite humour in her tone. “Are you _blushing_?”

His mouth gaped and he did his absolute best to look as affronted by the question as possible. “I will have you know, young lady, that Time Lords _do not_ blush!”

Rose lifted her hands from her hips and folded her arms across her breasts. She tipped her hip to one side and gave him a tongue-touched smile. “Oh. Well _this_ one does. Look at you all beet red right up to the tips of your ears.”

“Well perhaps if you weren’t speaking words that were desperately inappropriate for a … a …. Well, for _anyone_ to speak about in polite company...”

Rose bust out laughing. “Oh, Doctor, you are _anything_ but _polite_. All rude and not ginger and all…”

His embarrassment quickly faded into curiosity. “Rude and what? Not ginger? Whatever does that mean?”

“It means that you’re rude and not ginger,” she answered back with a smirk and a shrug. 

He lifted his eyes in contemplation a moment, and then bit his smile and nodded. “Yes. Yes, I can see how that descriptor fits. Across all of my known incarnations, actually.” His smile widened. “Quite eloquent in how simple – yet so accurate – it is. The Doctor: Rude and not Ginger.” He winked at her. “You, Rose, are a very clever girl.”

He watched her chuckle into her hand with a smile of his own. The smile fell after a moment and his expression changed to one of thought. “So. Before porn and descriptives of myself were topics of conversation, where were we?”

Rose shrugged. Amusement was still a feature upon her face, neck, and shoulders. “Don’t really remember,” she admitted with a purse in her lips. 

He hummed. “It can’t have been of vital importance, then.”

“If you were talkin’ about it,” she quipped in reply. “Then it was probably _very_ important.”

“Indeed,” he agreed coolly and with a nod of his head. “I don’t often speak nonsense.”

“That’s debatable, Mr. Lion King reference in the middle of a threat to humanity.”

His eyes blew wide at that. “Was it at least a _good_ reference?”

“Meh,” she sang. “Guess you thought so at the time.”

“Was it profound?”

“ _Subjective_ … as you say…”

“Ahhh.” He breathed out. “One of those off the cuff remarks to stall for time?”

She nodded and managed to give him an honest smile. “Well stalled..” She took a deep breath through an open mouth to let him know not to speak right at that moment. When confident he was going to remain silent, she gave him a smile. “But we digress. What were you going to say?”

He looked slightly sheepish. “You may want to elaborate on just which line of discussion you’re referring to. We’ve engaged in a couple of broken lines of topic.”

“Gallifreyans,” she said slowly as though ensuring that she got the word correct. “And choosing a mate.”

His jaw dropped with remembrance. “Yes. Yes, indeed. Gallifreyans and their selection of a mate.”

She waited for him to immediately continue. When he didn’t, she nodded quickly. “Yes. That’s the one.”

He cleared his throat with slight discomfort and held out his hand to her. “It may be more comfortable to be seated for this discussion. Do come with me.”

She took his hand and tightened her grip when it looked as though he might lead her back into the TARDIS. “No,” she blurted out quickly, smiling when he looked toward her with surprise. “Not in the TARDIS. Out here.” She looked around them. “It’s too beautiful to walk away from right now.”

He nodded with understanding. “If you wish.”

He led her toward a large rock with weather smoothed edges and urged her to take a seat. He didn’t immediately sit beside her, instead he took a small step backward and thrust his hands into his trouser pockets.

“My people, Rose,” he began quickly, deciding to just go straight into it rather than dawdle around it any more. “Well, most notably the Time Lords, didn’t often select a partner for what your people term _love_.”

“My _people_ ,” she repeated with a chuckle. “Sounds so _proper_.”

“Let me finish,” he warned slowly with a soft smile. He waited for a gesturing wave of her hand and once again cleared her throat. “The Time Lord Society is not one for love and romance and vows of eternal love an honour. Most betrothals that are entered into are for political unions rather than romantic.”

“Sounds a bit like royalty back in the day,” she muttered with a perplexed furrow in her brow.

He nodded. “Quite.”

“How awful,” she mused softly. She lifted her eyes to his and inside her gaze swam a myriad of questions that she dared not ask.

He could read each and every one of them and gave her a gentle smile as he slowly nodded his head. “Yes, Rose. I was quite reluctantly entered into one such a partnership.” He shuddered. “Rather distasteful, really. I’d frankly prefer not have to endure anything of that nature ever again any time soon.”

She blinked to wide eyes. “Never?”

He heard the meekness in her voice as she asked that one word question. It was a question asked with hope, realisation, disappointment, and then heartache. With a slow blink of his eyes he looked down to the red grass at her feet. “Of that particular nature? No.”

“Not into domestics,” she stated with a breathy sigh. “Can’t say it surprises me. You might’ve mentioned your disdain for that more than once.”

His eyes shifted to hers and he held her gaze for a moment to carefully formulate his response. When he did speak, it was with a tender voice. “If our conversation to this point is truthful, Rose, then I suspect I may have lied to you about that.”

Her head tilted to one side with curiosity. “How so?”

He inhaled deeply, held onto that breath a moment, and then released it as he spoke. “As I’ve been trying to explain around your rather constant interruptions…” He chuckled at her chastened expression. “While most marriages between my people _are_ political, there are also some that are made with romantic intentions. Not often, mind, heavens forbid that a Lord of Time admit to any emotions other than judgement and contempt..”

“And self righteousness,” she supplied with a smirk.

“Quite right you are on that, Dear Rose. Quite right.” He paused long enough to let himself indulge in a smile, and then let it fall. “But for those who do fall for a Lord or Lady, there does exist a rite to courtship that all Time Lords and Ladies will abide to …” he smiled only on one side of his mouth. “…including myself.”

She swallowed thickly, hope rising slightly in her veins. “And … And that is?”

“A verbal statement of intent,” he answered without pause. “One that must be reciprocated if the courtship is to move forward.”

“And if it isn’t?”

His eyes rolled wide and he bounced his head side to side with thought. “Well. That’s where it gets a little complicated.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

He let out a breathy laugh and thread and took a seat beside her on the rock. “Oh my dear, Rose. I don’t know what is worse: That I no longer surprise you, or that the legends of the Time Lords being able to complicate even the most trivial of matters has extended toward the people of Earth.”

Her mouth stretched into a grin. “Oh, you do still continue to surprise me, Doctor. Sometimes in exciting ways…” her smile faltered. “And sometimes not so.” She feigned happiness, however, and petted at his knee with the palm of her hand. “But do go on.” She didn’t look up at him, instead kept her eyes on her hand covering his knee. “I want to hear more.”

A brow lifted high on his forehead. “Are you really sure about that? Because evidence is leading me toward other conclusions.”

She bumped him with her shoulder. “Oh, shut up.” 

“If I do that,” he countered with amusement. “Then I wouldn’t be able to elaborate, would I?” He rubbed at his chin when she rolled her eyes. “Then again. You’re not exactly letting me finish my thoughts, are you?”

She boldly laid her head on his shoulder and looked into his face with the most innocent of expressions. “I’m sorry.”

The wideness of her eyes and the sincerity within them gave him pause. His breath hitched just slightly and he found himself drawing a fingertip along her forehead to draw her hair from her eyes. At that moment, he could see just what it was that captured his future self’s attention.

“You are … remarkable,” he breathed out reverently.

“Only b’cause of you,” she breathed back in reply. 

He watched her eyes fall toward his lips and the Doctor panicked. In a swift move that had little to no grace, he shot to his feet. “As I was saying before you so very rudely interrupted me for the umpteenth time, Rose Tyler. Time Lord courtship rituals are complicated.” He spun to look at her with a forced glare in his eyes that warned her not to interrupt again. “As they are in many, many species across the universe – Earth included.”

With wide eyes, she nodded, but Rose said nothing.

He half expected her to interrupt, and felt slightly put out that she didn’t. His voice immediately calmed and his posture relaxed. He let out a long breath as he considered where to push on from here. “I suppose I’ve mentioned that we are a telepathic race?”

She bit her lips together and nodded.

“Well. And I expect that you also know that we regenerate,” he continued. “We change completely…” he paused and looked down at his feet with a shake of his head. “Of course you know that. We’ve established that you know that.”

He felt her small hand curl warmly around his elbow and let out a long breath.

“It’s okay, Doctor. I know you don’t like to talk about these things like this. It’s really okay if you don’t wanna.”

“No,” he breathed out, letting his hand cover hers. He looked into her face with a small smile. “It’s actually very important that you understand this, and what it has to do with _my_ future … and possibly yours.”

She took a step backward, slipping her hand from underneath his and shook her head with confusion and slight worry. “I-I don’t understand.”

A series of lyrical words flew from his mouth at that time. Spoken without waver and in a voice that commanded no question, every lilt and curl of his tongue around each word swirled around her like invisible tendrils. A rush of pins and needles rushed from her feet up to the top of her head, causing her to shudder and let out a whimpering sigh. When the shuddering stopped she looked up at him with questions once more hiding within her eyes.

“If you were a Time Lady,” he began as he took a stride closer to her. He maintained his distance as he slid his hands into his trouser pockets and rocked back lightly on his heels. “You’d have a response for that. Maybe reciprocal in nature, maybe not.” He inhaled deep. “But until such time as I receive a response of any kind, I’ll be put into a holding pattern of sorts. Unable to move forward, and unable to let go.”

“What did you say?” she asked in a whisper. “How should I respond? And…”

“And how can I not be able to move on?” he finished for her. “Because that really is what is important here.”

“I – I don’t understand.”

He drew in a deep breath. “There is actually no direct translation into your language from mine. You couldn’t respond to that, and I couldn’t hope to ever expect you too.” He smiled ruefully. “You would have to speak my language, and that’s no easy feat for someone who isn’t intimately attuned to time and all of her nuances.” He pursed his lips in a thoughtful manner. “Which is probably why I say it to you as often as I do. If I don’t expect a response, then I can’t expect a rejection.”

“But,” she queried gently. “What if it wouldn’t be a rejection? What if I want to reciprocate?”

His eyes snapped quickly to hers. “Would you want to, Rose?”

Her eyes widened a moment. She quickly reddened and then stole her gaze away from his. There was a waver in her voice. “Uh. I might. You know….” Her lips curled around her teeth in such a way that it made her words seem as though they were spoken around a mouthful of marbles. “We might have some things to sort out first, you know. I mean, because, the current you I’m travelling with is behaving like a bit of a lad…”

“Flirtatious,” he countered quickly. “But not being a cad.” He walked around her, straightened up into a more confident demeanour and shrugged. “That, I can assure you.”

She barked out a laugh at that. “Oh, Doctor. _This_ you might not be a player, but as you flame through your regenerations, you tend to look a little more at the opposite sex.”

“Window shopping,” he came back with a shrug of nonchalance. “Nothing more.”

“Snogging,” she continued. “ _Dancing_.” She winced. “Getting married and siring heirs.”

The Doctor snorted. “If what you’re saying is correct, and the future me is the instigator and willing participant in all such endeavours, then the statement you claim he’s making to you on a regular basis is definitely _not_ what you think it is.”

“He’s definitely saying that….”

He shrugged. “Then he’s not playing about like you think he is.”

“Says _you_ ,” she shot back petulantly.

“Says the mating and courtship ritual of my people,” he shot back almost angrily. “If he has indeed spoken to you in the manner by which you and I have discussed, then his ability to engage in any such nonsense would be physically impossible.” He flicked his hand in a rudely dismissive gesture. “Unless you have offered him the appropriate rejection.” He spun, looked at her and ground out a series of melodic syllables that to her sounded harsh and extremely unattractive. 

Her heart fell into her stomach. She didn’t understand what he said, but she knew it wasn’t in any way complimentary. “Please don’t speak to me like that, again,” she warned him darkly. “I might not be real intimate with time and all that, but I know an insult when I hear it.”

His expression remained neutral, but he tilted his head to one side to regard her curiously. More melodic, and obviously more deliberate syllables fell from his lips. Although his expression hardened somewhat, and he looked to be deliberately unhappy with her, the words he spoke were loving and tender. Rose felt the tingle from tip to toe and her eyes misted.

“Right,” she breathed out with a shudder. “Ni-Nice backpedal, Doctor. Much better.”

His eyes quickly pinched and he regarded her with scrutiny. “You shouldn’t be able to tell the difference,” he remarked suspiciously. “You’re _human_ , correct?”

“As far as I know.”

“But…” He was on her before she even registered that he’d taken a step toward her. His march ended with his hands curled around her biceps and his face mere inches from hers. His eyes bored deeply into hers and despite her mild attempt to struggle away from him, he held them both firm. She could see his eyes flick between hers, searching and mentally cataloguing what he saw. “Why do I see time swirling in your eyes?” he questioned. “Swimming deep in the back.”

She struggled back as best she could, uncomfortable against his scrutiny. “You’re bein’ daft.”

His hold, both his grip and his eyes, were strong. “No. It’s there, Rose. I can see it. Curling around the sclera, attached to your optic nerve.” His deep focus deep within her eyes shifted, and he focused upon her confused gaze. “Only those who’ve looked into the Schism see time like that.”

His hands roughly let go of her arms. He purposefully shifted his flattened palms to her chest, pressing against her bosom, one left, the other right.

Rose was quite frankly mortified by this advance. She shoved both her hands against his chest to push him away from her. “Get offa me!” she demanded as she stepped back and folded her arms across her chest to curl into herself. “Who do you think you are, bein’ all forward like that? Just because I fancy you in the future, doesn’t mean you have rights to get all touchy-feelly on me now.” She sniffed and raised her chin high. “I don’t even know you.”

He didn’t seem to notice her rant at all. He simply crossed one arm over his belly and rested the elbow of the other on his fist. He rubbed at his chin and wore a perplexed frown on his face. “One heart,” he muttered to himself.

“One _what?_ ”

“Heart,” he answered distractedly. “You’ve only got one.”

She didn’t release the cover of her arms across her chest. “Yeah. And you didn’t have to turn into an octopus to find out. You only needed to ask.”

His brows lifted and he looked at her with an expression of confusion. “An _octopus_ , Rose? How am I anything like an _octopus_?”

She gestured toward his hands with a flick of one of hers. She didn’t relinquish the protective hold of her arms across her bosom. “You, bein’ all handsy there.” Her eyes lifted angrily to his. “I don’t appreciate that, Doctor. You didn’t ask, and so I didn’t consent.”

If possible, his expression of utter confusion deepened.

Rose let out a huff and finally opened her arms to display her chest to him, even pulling back her shoulders to tighten her shirt and further accentuate them. “My _boobs_ , Doctor. You were grabbing them like they were your little playthings.”

Confusion shifted to accused affront. “I did no such thing.”

“Yeah,” she choked out. “You did.”

“I did not grab,” he growled in his defense. “There was no grabbing. I pressed my hands to your chest, yes, but that was an exploratory action.”

She huffed out with disgust. “Exploratory my arse,” she shot back. “I’ll give you exploratory when I slap you hard enough to make you regenerate.”

His eyes widened. “I was feeling to see how many hearts you have.”

“How many did you think I _had_ , Doctor?” She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Human. I have one. Just one. And you could’ve found that out by askin’ me.”

“I had to be sure,” he grumbled.

“And are you very _sure_ now, Doctor?”

There was still anger in her tone. He pressed his lips together and gave a firm nod. “Yes. Thank you. And.” He cleared his throat as he finally considered his actions and how they must’ve been received. He couldn’t find it in himself to show completely ruefulness, so he hid it behind slight petulance. “And I’m sorry, by the way. I didn’t think.”

“You’re telling me,” she answered back, her anger falling away. She waited a few seconds and then shook her head with a smile. “Daft git,” she said finally. “Only _you_ could possibly do something like that and not think there was anything wrong with it.”

His brows lifted and he nodded with an open mouth. “Oh, there is plenty wrong with it, Rose, on that I agree. I also agree that I wasn’t thinking at that very specific point in time past the mission that I was on, which was to determine the amount of hearts beating within your chest.”

“One,” she advised.

“One,” he confirmed slowly. “Which is very curious.”

“Why?”

He frowned a little and pursed his lips out far enough that he could see them when he looked down along his nose. After a moment in this position his expression cleared, relaxed, and fell to a more neutral state. “I’m really not quite sure about that,” he admitted. “When I saw the way that time was swirling in your eyes, and noted that you were able to distinguish the difference between … well … complimentary and non complimentary words despite there not being any recognisable difference to anyone not familiar with the language at all….” He sighed. “I found myself questioning your heritage.”

“Again,” she said with a weak smile. “You only had to ask.”

“To quote you from earlier,” he droned in reply. “I don’t know you. How do I know that I can trust you?”

She let out a long breath and nodded with her lips pressed tightly together. “Well played,” she conceded flatly.

Silence fell at that moment. Neither willing to initiate to continue the current line of discussion. Instead they let the tinkling of silver leaves and the rustle of red grasses fill the void of sound between them.

After a moment, Rose shifted from her protective stance to take up position beside the Time Lord. She put her hands into the pockets of her jeans and watched the colour of the sky changed as the twin suns shifted to drop behind the mountains off in the distance. She wanted to remark on the beauty of the scene in front of her. She wanted to capture the sight forever. In a swift and practiced move, she drew her phone from her pocket and pointed it toward the setting suns.

“It is stunning, isn’t it?” he asked her almost distractedly as he watched her take photograph after photograph, and then walk slowly in a circle to capture a 360 panoramic image.

“Gorgeous,” she agreed breathlessly. She then walked back toward the edge of the cliff and turned her back to the sight. She lifted the camera with one hand in an attempt to capture the best selfie image possible. 

She stumbled slightly, and was immediately inside the arms of the Doctor. With her camera still raised she turned to look at him with wide open eyes of question. She wasn’t surprised to see him fiercely analysing her gaze with his own. He ran his arm up along hers to take the phone in his hand.

“Here,” he breathed out hoarsely without taking his eyes from hers. “Allow me.”

Her jaw fell and she nodded at him, dumbly, with eyes wide. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

He quickly released her and took a good long stride backward. “Not that I doubt your selfie-taking abilities at all, Rose. But if you want to capture the perfect image to show my future self my home and my hearts, then it’s best that I take the pictures, don’t you think.”

Her head still bobbed as she reached forward and relinquished the phone. “Uh. Yeah. Of course.”

He made a show of snapping pictures and guiding her into specific poses and positions against the backdrop of Gallifrey. He cheered her on playfully. He hooted and hollered when he felt he got the most perfect shot. He purred out about beauty when he captured a wide set of eyes and smile that held reflections of Schlenk Blossoms and Cadonwood trees.

Rose sighed when he guided her back toward the rock and asked her to sit. She watched as he plucked a bloom from the ground and approached to place it behind her ear.

“Could you teach me?” she asked with soft curiosity when she felt the tickle of his fingers against her ear as he settled the flower into place.

His eyes slid from the bloom to hers. “Teach you what?”

“How to respond.”

“Respond to what?” he queried as he took a step back to line up another shot. “Now please, lean slightly to the left. I want to capture the shadows of the leaves across your cheeks.”

“Respond to ‘im,” she clarified. “You know, when he speaks to me in your language.”

He stilled. He feigned devoted attention toward the phone and really tried not to look at her when he answered. His voice was breathy. “I thought you said that you weren’t going to stay with me.” His eyes still didn’t rise. “Wouldn’t be much point in teaching you anything of the sort when you don’t actually intend on saying it.”

“Leaving you is not as easy to me as I’m making out it is,” she admitted quietly. “I say I’m leaving, but I don’t know that I actually will.” She turned on the rock to sit sideways to him and slumped as she looked off into the distance. “I love it, you know: the travelling. I love seeing everything that the Doctor has to show me. Everything that exists out there … it’s …” She signed and looked down to her knee. “I don’t know how, or even if I can say good bye to it all.”

The Doctor switched the camera to video and continued hold it steady on her image, stunned that he was at the beauty within the sorrow. His voice turned soft. “Is it just the travelling that you love, Rose?”

She lifted her head back up to look at a snow capped mountain peak and smiled sadly. “I think we’ve already established how I feel about ‘im, Doctor. It doesn’t need to be said that I’m in love with him. Break my heart and all that he does, but I still worship the very ground he walks on.”

“That’s not a pedestal I should ever be placed upon.”

She turned her head to look down her arm at him. It was almost sultry the way she gazed at him. “Why not?” she asked with a gentle blink of her eyes and a tilt in her head to further accent the image she was already projecting toward him. “You’re got the entire universe up on the same pedestal. It’s about time you joined us up here.” She smiled into the camera. “It’s kind’ve lonely up here without you.”

His voice was breathless as he looked at her through the viewscreen instead of directly at her. “You’re absolutely breathtaking,” he admitted inaudibly to himself.

“And I’m right _here_ ,” she said with a chuckle. “So look at me an’ not the phone, yeah?”

Her hand flicked dismissively toward the camera, a move that shook him from his reverie and allowed his eyes to flick up to hers. He quickly nodded and tapped off the recording feature of her phone. “Yes, of course you are. My apology.”

She shrugged and held out her hand. “Join me, Doctor. Please?”

He didn’t take her hand, but he cupped her cheek tenderly when he joined her on the rock. He held her face and held her eyes as he spoke gently in the language of his people. His lilting words stumbled ever so slightly when she leaned into his touch then lifted her hand to cover his.

“Can you repeat that back to me?” he asked softly when he was done. 

She kept her cheek in his hand and let her eyes shift to his. “Depends. Is that the _yes I want to be your girlfriend_ or the _No, taa, looking for other options_?”

He chuckled though his nose. “The former, Rose. However, this isn’t as simple as asking to be girlfriend and boyfriend. What he asks of you is so much more than that.”

“Is it?”

He nodded. “Very much so.” He cleared his throat and rubbed his palms on his knees. “It’s a telepathic vow – one to seek out a bond. Telepathy being as it is with my species, consent is vital in forming such a bond.”

She nodded to indicate that she’d understood, but she said nothing. The look of engagement in her eyes was encouragement for him to continue.

“So that said, any such desire or request requires reciprocation, or it cannot be formed. Two minds as one, and all that.” He drew in a deep breath. “Which makes it very important that if you intend on learning how to answer the question to the side of positive, that you have thought it through and are 100% committed to that answer and accept all of its repercussions.” He set his hands on his knees and looked toward her. “Once you’ve accepted, you can’t walk away. It’s a permanent connection. One for two to remain together, as one….”

“Forever,” she completed inside a whisper. Her head lowered. “I’ve already promised him that, Doctor. On Woman’s Wept, underneath flying sting Rays…” She smiled at that and lifted her head. “He asked me how long I was going to stay with him.” She looked toward him. “I said _forever_ , an’ I meant it.”

“But can you follow through on that promise?”

“I thought I could, you know.” She pursed her lips and looked out across the field toward the TARDIS. “Back when he was rough and gruff…”

“And a big teddybear,” he recounted with disgust in his tone.

She bumped him with her shoulder. “Don’t you mind on that, Doctor,” she chided. “A teddybear with me only, yeah?”

“Whilst maintaining my carefully crafted reputation of indignance toward all others, I hope.”

She snorted a laugh through her nose. “You ‘ave no idea,” she drawled. Her drawl ended with a sigh and she looked back across the canyon toward the setting suns. She noted an almost transparent set of lines across the sky that she assumed were from rings surrounding the planet and let out a sigh of awe. “Gallifrey has rings?”

The Doctor’s eyes flicked up and he shook his head. “No, it doesn’t.” Realisation dawned with a sigh and he blinked slowly. “Transduction barrier beams,” he corrected. “Gallifreyan made, not natural, I’m afraid.”

“And that is…?”

He shook his head with a smile. “That is your way of avoiding continuing with your line of thought and giving me your answer.”

She stood up from the rock and held herself as she moved toward the cliff’s edge. Her head remained high as she watched colours she didn’t know existed swirl across the sky. “Maybe it’s because I just don’t have one for you right now.”

“If I took you back to me right now?”

She could hear the light waver of worry in his voice, and looked back at him with a shrug. “Probably best you don’t.” Her eyes flicked down to the red grass at her feet and then skittered back toward the sunset. “You bein’ all sweet talking now doesn’t negate what you do in your future.”

“A future,” he corrected, “that you ran away from before you could see…”

She spun and glared a sizzling stare of fury toward him. “I saw plenty, ta.” She stalked toward him, eyes wide and nostrils flared. There was a light hunch in her shoulder as she stalked his way. When she finally got to him, she rolled up onto her toes, poked her finger into his chest, and curled her lip in as threatening a manner as possible. “Didn’t need to stick around to see the climax of a whole year’s worth of him pulling away and treatin’ me second class, like I don’t matter.”

With his height, he unintentionally loomed over her. Although he had advantage with height staring down at her angry, hurt, and frustrated glare, he couldn’t help but feel several feet shorter. His hand flicked upward toward her temple, and stopped just short.

“Let me see,” he requested firmly.

“See what?” she growled in reply, her tight attention on the blue in his eyes so rapt that she didn’t even register that his hands were moving toward her face.

“What I’ve done to you,” he clarified. “Just need a moment, a quick look into your mind…”

“My head?” she barked out incredulously. She took a full stride backward and let her eyes finally find his raised hand. “Why’d you need to go in there. Don’t you believe me?”

“Not really,” he admitted, taking his own step backward at her growl of utter shock and disgust at his admittance. “Oh don’t get offended,” he growled with equal annoyance. “You’re a human…”

“Which has _what_ to do with _anything_?” she snapped back. 

He sighed a long-suffering sound and dropped his hand. “You’re emotional,” he explained with as little condescension as possible. “And a defining characteristic of your species is that emotions cloud your judgment – especially where the heart is concerned.”

Her lips pursed petulantly, but she didn’t speak.

“So that said. Let me take a look and see for myself what harm I’ve done to your singular, and obviously very passionate heart.” His voice softened further. “Let me see if what feelings you had for me are still salvageable so that you can move forward in the right direction …” he gulped, “for both of us.”

He lifted his hand slowly, cautiously. “Tell me, Rose. Do you trust _me_?”

She took his hand and pressed it flat against her head. She looked him in the eye with a fierce gaze of utter faith. “More than I should.”

He watched her eyes flutter shut and shifted his fingers to make contact. “Anything you want to shield from me, Rose. Just put them behind a closed door. I won’t peek, I promise.”

“I’ll try,” she whispered softly.

His own eyes closed as the tingling of connection fluttered between them.

He expected to be bombarded with a barrage of mess thoughts, memories, and emotions – such were the minds of humans – but instead he gasped to be greeted with a single moment… and one filled with so much passion and emotion that it made his hearts hurt to bear witness.

…and offered discomfort beyond all measure to look through the eyes of this young woman at a silhouette of himself standing at a window’s ledge, raw, bare, and naked, lit only by the light of the full moon outside..


	2. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #1 - I made a boo-boo and forgot to mention that this has a few chapters... Sorry about that. Totally unintentional.
> 
> #2 - This chapter represents my most obvious fear and insecurity as a writer. You note in everything else -- no naughty bits -- well, I thought I'd give it a wee bit of a shot here. Oh, it's not graphic smut by any means, but it is way out of my comfort level .. Though, I suppose that sometimes we need out of our protective bubble once in a while just to see what we're capable of.
> 
> Please be gentle on me and don't laugh too hard... I got too timid to do a reread to see if it worked out okay....
> 
> Thanks for the STELLAR response to the first bit! I'm so glad to see you liked it. This chappy is all about our lad in curls seeing for himself first hand the relationship between Rose and his elder self ... so there actually is a purpose to it. I promise.
> 
> Please enjoy.
> 
> Oh, and remember, this is through Rose's eyes, soooooooo ... We aren't getting too much on the emotional reciprocation front from old Nine.... Sorry about that.

He expected to be bombarded with a barrage of mess thoughts, memories, and emotions – such were the minds of humans – but instead he gasped to be greeted with a single moment… and one filled with so much passion and emotion that it made his hearts hurt to bear witness.

…and offered discomfort beyond all measure to look through the eyes of this young woman at a silhouette of himself standing at a window’s ledge, raw, bare, and naked, lit only by the light of the full moon outside..

~~oooOOOooo~~

She marvelled at the way the moonlight danced off his skin, and of the ghostly blue-hued luminescence it gave of each curve, divot, and angle that sculpted the magnificent creature across the room. Magnificent he was – in her eyes, anyway. 

God, she loved him.

He leaned his tall and lanky self in front of the window over looking the cliffs and ocean below them. One arm was curled up next to his head, where he leaned against the window frame, the other sat against his side, his fingers curled around the curve of his hip. He was tall, proud, and statuesque with perfection – a master piece that may well have been crafted by Michelangelo himself…

…Less muscular, perhaps, and more generous in the lower regions than the Italian master may have offered him…

She held off chuckling at her own joke to instead watch quietly from the bed on which she lay. There were very few moments where she could catch him unaware and just watch. He was far too perceptive with – she was sure – a set of hidden eyes in the back of his head. She narrowed her eyes in the darkness to attempt to focus on just where they may be. His closely cropped hair could hide nothing, however, so if he did indeed have a pair of eyes, then he had a perception filter on them or something…

“Are you going to stare at me all night, Rose?”

“Was thinkin’ about it,” she admitted with a chuckle. “You’re like lookin’ at art work, you are.”

“Picasso,” he replied with a snort, his eyes still locked on the horizon ahead of him. “Apt, considerin’.”

“Considerin’ what?” she queried as she swung her legs around to sit up. She located his discarded jumper and pulled it over her head. 

“Nothing, Rose,” he conceded gently. 

Rose let the conversation end on that point end and took her time to pull her arms through the sleeves of the jumper. She smoothed it down over her belly and onto her thighs only when she finally pushed up to a stand.

“How long was I out?” she queried as she softly padded along the floor to join him at the window.

Still his focal attention remained only on the scenery outside the window. “A couple of hours. Surprised you’re up. Figured you’d be out till morning.”

Rose curled around his arm and let her temple rest against the softest part of his shoulder. She let her gaze fall upon the skies overlooking the waters below. “Didn’t have my Time Lord blanket keepin’ me warm.” She looked up at him when she heard his face shift from pensive to a smile. “Come back to bed, Doctor?”

“Not tired,” he replied flatly, his smile now a straight line of pressed lips. “Got a few things on my mind right now.”

“Bad Wolf?”

At that name, the Doctor finally pulled his gaze from the window to look down at her. There was a flare of surprise within his stare. “How’d you figure that?”

Her own stare remained ahead of them. “Today, at the Market when we saw the words in the crystals from that vendor.” She let out a breath. “Took you more by surprise than normal and seemed to worry you a bit. Makes sense that that big Time Lord brain of yours would repeat it over and over till you had a sec to ponder it.” She curled a little more tightly around his arm, linking her fingers through his. “An’ when you made love to me tonight, you were more intense about it than normal – like you knew somethin’ was coming and it might be the last time we, well....”

“Not planning to end it anytime soon,” he breathed out firmly. 

“God. I hope not.” She purred with remembrance to only hours ago and let that mental image send shivers down int her belly. She licked at her lip, inhaled a breath to re-centre herself, and allowed her fingertip to draw a line up along his belly. She smiled at the twitch of his muscles and the hitch in his breath. “But’m worried about you, Doctor. I mean, okay, you’re always a pretty intense kind’ve bloke, but tonight I could barely catch my breath of you.”

Looking down at where she was curled up against him, he let his eyes trail down along her fringe and along the bridge of her nose. He stopped on the tip of her tongue as it slid out to wet her lip and quickly flicked his eyes back toward the water. “You don’t like my intensity?”

“Love it,” she growled with a chuckle as she rubbed her temple against his cool skin. “Never too much to handle, and never lacking enough to bore me.”

“That’s good to know.”

She lifted her head to look up at him and loosened her hold of his arm. “Seriously, though, Doctor. Is this Bad Wolf thing something we should be worried about?”

“I hope not.”

“But you’re not sure, are you?”

He shook his head and stared off into the distant constellations. “I don’t want to lie to you, Rose…”

She waited a beat for him to continue. When he didn’t she felt herself deflate just slightly. When her Time Lord didn’t want to answer a question, it meant it was time to change topics. There’d be no way she could keep them here like this, now, comfortably wrapped up together, if she continued to press the issue. Instead she snuggled in closer against his arm and looked out into the darkness ahead of them.

“Are you looking for her?”

He still at that question. His voice held confusion. “For whom, Rose?” He lifted the arm she held in a jerking motion so she’d release him, and then let it fall over her shoulder. He pulled her close into his side. “The only woman I need is right here. No sense lookin’ for more.”

“One of ‘em’s bad enough,” she purred in a deep mocking masculine voice. “Bloody women.”

“I’m really going to try not to take offence to that,” he said with a sigh and a shake in his head. “Then again. There’s truth to it. You can be quite the handful, Miss Jeopardy Friendly Ape. Between you and the TARDIS, I don’t need another woman to test my patience.”

She slapped at his bare chest in a playful manner and moaned out a chuckle. “You daft git. And I’m gonna tell the TARDIS you said that.”

“You say that like I don’t already make my feelin’s toward her known.” He huffed. “Another woman indeed.”

She moaned. “I’m talking about your home, Doctor.” Her nose jutted up in a gesture toward the stars. “Up there in the darkness looking down at you an’ all.”

“Yeah,” he drawled out on a long breath. “Been looking. But even with my superior and quite frankly fantastic eyesight, it’s still not visible to the naked eye.”

She giggled inside an amused hum. “And you figured the rest of you being starkers might improve that naked vision?”

He paused for long enough to look down at his naked form and then shrugged. “couldn’t hurt.”

She smiled at his cheeky wink. “You told me once that as many light years as a star is away from us, that’s how far in the past we’re lookin’ at them, right?” She relaxed heavily against him. “So like, if Mars was 100 light years away… What we see on Earth is 100 years ago in Mars’ history.”

“Mars is closer to about 22 light minutes, but yes, you’re on the right track.”

“How far away is your home planet?”

He looked back up into the sky. His breath was little more than a whisper. “About 250 million light years from here.”

“So then it’ll be there, above us, for 250 million more,” she offered with a smile as she stepped off his side and to the front of him. “Forever in the skies above our heads.” With a wink in her eye and a tongue-touched smile across her mouth, she put her hands on the ledge behind her and pulled herself to a seat. Very quickly, her hands lost purchase and she began to fall backward.

Rose didn’t have time to yelp nor panic – although her heart quickly hammered up it’s rate. No sooner had her hands slipped from the ledge, the Doctor was upon her. He strode swiftly in between her parted knees and his hands quickly found her hips.

“I’ve got you,” he assured her on a firm and husky tone.

Her put her hands at his elbows and let a relieved breath ease out through fear-dried lips. “I almost fell,” she breathed out, safety now allowing for panic to set in.

His hold of her hips tightened. “I would never let that happen,” he vowed fiercely along a tone almost terrifying in its intensity. 

She shuddered as a myriad of feelings and emotions coursed from head to toe. Once again, her tongue found its way to her lips to wet them. “And if you can’t stop me?” she whispered.

He shifted his arms to fully encircle her hips and tugged her tightly against him, their naked cores pressed hard together. His teeth grazed at her ear, his voice still dark and very stormy. “Then we fall together.”

Rose took one of his hands in hers and lifted it up toward her mouth. She ran her lips lightly across his knuckles as she locked her eyes to his. “And if I tell you that I’ve already fallen, and there was no chance for you to catch me?”

He pressed his thumb between her lips and growled deeply in the back of his throat when she sucked it into her mouth. Several alien words with a lyrical, musical sound, passed out quietly through clenched cheeks.

She felt the words, now becoming more familiar to her, circle around them both a moment before they collided with her chest and exploded out through her shoulder blades and into the night behind them. Her back arched, her knees lifted, and as she threw back her head with an airless gasp, she felt him quickly fill her to her core. His name stuttered and staggered from her chest and she struggled to maintain any sense of sanity at all as he moved and rocked against her.

Those Gallifreyan syllables kept falling from his lips, lilting and rolling against her. Word after word, one promise made after another, they kept coming, kept filling her as entirely as he was. And although these words were spoken with a passionate and fierce voice, the Doctor stared at her with an expressionless gaze. Oh, but that gaze was intense. His eyes a pair of blue tractor beams that captured and held her. Even though she wanted to throw her head back and sigh, moan, and groan toward the heavens, she never could take her gaze from his.

And still those Gallifreyan syllables fell from his lips, thick as honey.

“English,” she demanded breathlessly as his rocking movements quickened, and then slowed, quickened, and then slowed again.

His eyes twitched in question, but he didn’t vocally seek clarification.

“What you’re saying,” she panted and moaned. “I need you to say it so I can understand it.” She paused only to cry out his name alongside that of her deity, and then begged him again. “Please?”

The intensity in his eyes and the stoic expression didn’t change, but the tilt of his head did. His eyes were still locked on hers and he thrust a harder movement of his hips against hers. “My hearts,” he ground out through his teeth. He curled a lip with a growl before continuing. “Rose, they beat for you.”

She whimpered, her eyes wide and her mouth open wide in a voiceless scream. 

“Does yours beat for me?” he demanded as much as begged as he hooked both arms underneath hers and leaned her backward, out into the darkness. With her unshakable trust in him, in that he’d never let her fall, she released her own hold upon him and let her arms flail into the night. With the winds whipping against her ears and the peppering smacking sounds of their joining filling her ears and heightening her senses, so barely heard him ask her if hers beat for him, and whether or not she could swear to him that her one heart could ever beat as powerfully for him as both of his did for her.

“I love you,” she sang out into the night, unsure if her voice would win the battle against the winds and crashing waves below. Part of her wholly believed that he’d heard her cry out her devotion in the wind as his rocking quickened and intensified. 

With the cool winds against her nipples, and the coolness of him filling and moving within her, Rose teetered on the edge much faster than she’d ever known herself to fall. She couldn’t do this without him, though, and she began to writhe against him, her arms clawing at his to lift her back inside. There was fluttering in her belly, a tightness in her shoulders, and she knew she was only moments away from completion.

His name flew desperately out of her as one, and then two hard rocks of his hips threw her finally over the edge. Before her back could straighten out and her body tense, curl, and lock against the release, she was quickly pulled back in and up against a cool and heaving chest. He held her off the floor and up against him as he continued to move with harder, more forced rocks. He finally lifted his head in a below off alien words toward the sky, and slowly his movements began to wane. He didn’t release her, even as the waning movements ebbed out into stillness.

He panted wetly against her throat, one open mouth huff after another, and once again, those Gallifreyan words kissed against her earlobe. One rolling syllable after another, over and over, until finally, the strong and proud Time Lord could no longer keep his strength. His knees faltered as he stumbled both of them toward the bed. He barely managed to get her onto the mattress before his knees gave out completely and he found himself awkwardly postioned half on, and half off the mattress.

“Are you okay?” she queried with a tired smile of pure adoration at his sheepish expression.

“It would be dangerous for me to tell you that you got a bit heavy for me there, wouldn’t it?” he wriggled up a little to have a more dignified position on the mattress and lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Muscle fatigue after a long day, and all that stuff.”

Rose cupped his face and leaned down with a click of her tongue and a wink in her eye. “Kiss me, Doctor, and I’ll forgive you.” She met his lips halfway as he lifted to cater to her request. “Kiss me.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

The Doctor stumbled out of that memory, and out of Rose’s mind with a stagger, a stumble, and his thoughts still raw with her asking him to kiss her.

Rose stumbled backward as well. She exclaimed a sound of surprise and embarrassment. “You. You weren’t supposed to see _that_!”

See _that_? He didn’t just see it; he felt every single thing she did during that memory, and damn, he was raw for it. He didn’t have any other thought in his mind at that moment, other than to kiss her. With a very brisk stalk toward her, the Doctor lifted both hands, cupped her cheeks, and drew him toward her for what he intended on being a long and very languid kiss…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I still don't own Doctor Who ... but if anything changes on that front, I'll let you know...


	3. Kiss me Rose...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor tries for a kiss....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so incredibly for your kind words about the previous chapter. I think I may have recovered enough to re-read it at some juncture. Not quite sure if I can, but I'm glad that you all enjoyed it.
> 
> as to the chapter below: Well this didn't go in any direction that I had expected it to.... Neither of these two characters were in any form of agreement with what I had planned. But be that as it may, I think it worked out okay. I love the flip-flopping nature of the Doctor's personality. It's quite fun to play with.
> 
> I really hope you enjoy.

Previously on Language: See _that_? He didn’t just see it; he felt every single thing she did during that memory, and damn, he was raw for it. He didn’t have any other thought in his mind at that moment, other than to kiss her. With a very brisk stalk toward her, the Doctor lifted both hands, cupped her cheeks, and drew him toward her for what he intended on being a long and very languid kiss…

~~oooOOOooo~~

Still reeling from the intensity of the memory of her and her first Doctor engaged in what was their very passionate last night together, Rose didn’t immediately register this new (old) Doctor’s intensions. When his hands tenderly cupped her face, she looked up at him through eyes blurred with tears with worry about what his reaction might be. She wasn’t met by a pair of dusty blue eyes as she expected. Instead she saw a rapidly approaching tilted head, his eyes were closed, his brow in a furrow …

… and his lips puckered for a kiss.

Her mind screamed out in the negative, but those words didn’t make it past her lips even after her hands slammed against his chest to shove him away from her. She jumped back as he stumbled awkwardly away from her. Hi lips were still puckered and his eyes were wide with question. His hands were still held up as though cradling her cheeks. He spluttered, but didn’t say anything that was in any way coherent.

“What the hell are you trying to do?” she demanded angrily. Her body was locked rigid in a defensive hunch, and her fists were balled tightly at her side. She didn’t wait for him to respond – not that it looked like he was capable of doing so at that juncture. “Were you … were you actually anglin’ to kiss me right then?”

His mouth flailed as much as his arms when he finally let them fall to his sides. His head shook, although not through denial. He was horribly perplexed at her heated rejection toward his advance … especially after what he’d just seen.

“Shakin’ your head?” she growled incredulously. “Tryin’ to deny that you were about to get fresh and plant one on me?” She pointed an angry finger toward him. “And there you were, back in the TARDIS, tellin’ me you had no … what was the word? Nef-nefarious? Yeah, that you had no nefarious intentions toward me?”

His eyes flared as his brain finally kicked in to let him speak. “I’ll have you know, Rose, that there is nothing _nefarious_ about any of my intentions toward you.”

“Yeah, well,” she growled in a petulant manner as she folded her arms across her chest and fell into an indignant slouch. “First you get all grabby at my boobs, then want to go in my head wandering at the most private memory I ‘ave – and one I _didn’t_ want you to see, and then you set about wanting to snog me.” She sniffed. “As you say: Evidence is leading _me_ toward other conclusions.”

His mouth gaped. “Do you think I went into your memories in _search_ of a memory like that?” His head shook in wide, slow, twists. “Oh no, young lady. I did no such thing.” He took a stride toward her and levered his finger toward her as she had done to him. “I told you to hide anything you didn’t want me to see.”

“I _tried_ to!”

“Unless the meaning of the word has changed – hardly surprising for your species who just randomly decide to reassign word meanings – to hide something is to keep it out of sight or conceal from others,” he snarled condescendingly. “Thrusting it front and centre is not hiding it – in fact it’s the opposite!”

“Oh don’t you talk down to me you pompous alien arse,” she growled angrily.

“We’re on _my_ home planet, Rose,” he shot back as he swept his arm in the air in presentation of their surroundings. Here, _you’re_ the alien, not me.”

Her expression fell as tears struggled and failed to fall from her eye. “God, I hate you.”

His fire was still very well lit and pushing him onward. “Not based on what I just witnessed, you don’t,” he huffed. “Very much the opposite, in fact. Of all the emotions I felt in that memory, hate was definitely not invited to that party.” He started to pace, his voice harsh. “No, I didn’t see that at all. Love, oh there was plenty of that. Passion; absolutely front and centre. Unbridled, untamed lust, we certainly didn’t lack in that department. Worship, devotion…” His eyes fixed hard on her. “You don’t hate me, my dear. You absolutely revere me.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth gaped to hear him mock her feelings like that. Finally the tears that had been damming against her lashes finally broke loose. She slowly shook her head with horrific disbelief and stepped back ward a stride. “Take me home,” she managed as sternly as she could despite the timid weakness of her voice. “I don’t deserve this...”

All of the Doctor’s anger quickly subsided once he saw her despair return. It was the wetness of her cheeks that did him in more than anything. Each sparkling reflection of the setting sun upon those cheeks like a poke into his heart for each of the emotions he’d mocked. He quickly moved toward her with arms open wide to draw her up against him.

“Tears,” he mumbled out as reassuringly as he could. “Please no new tears – especially not because of me.”

Rose was defeated, and rather than scarper out of reach, she just slumped and looked up at him. Big brown and amber eyes so sad. “I can’t do this anymore.”

She hiccupped when his arms circled her and drew her up against his chest. Her legs gave out from underneath her, and although she fell, the Doctor held her to a stand. He held her firm as she tried to find footing to remain standing. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you,” he promised softly.

“I just can’t anymore,” she whimpered.

“Then fall, Rose. I’ll fall with you.”

She wanted to argue with him, and to admonish him for taking a precious part of her memories to use blindly here, but she no longer had the energy to fight. She let her legs collapse completely, and was surprised when he bent his own knees to bring them both down on to the grass – he on his knees, and she on her hip in front of him.

He held her back with one arm and lifted his other hand to cup her cheek. With tender coaxing, he lifted her head to look up at him. His own eyes were misted as he lowered his face to hers to hover their foreheads only inches apart. “In all of my lives, I’ve never known of emotions that intense, Rose. At least, not any of love and devotion – particularly toward me.” He licked at his lip and brushed his thumb along her wettened cheekbone. “Myself, I’ve experience feelings of disappointment, loathing, resentment, and disgust – oftentimes overwhelming in their power … but never have I experienced anything like devoted reverence.”

She hiccupped and blinked slowly. “You didn’t believe me when I said I loved you?”

He smiled at that. “Oh, I believed you, Rose,” he assured her. “Your devastation to your perceived loss gave credence to your vow. I didn’t disbelieve that for a moment.”

She lifted her hand to cover his and looked helplessly up at him, barely four inches away from her. “Then, why are you so surpised?”

“I’m not surprised, at least not by you,” he confirmed with a tender smile. “My surprise stems from the reverence my future feels toward you. Rassilon, Rose. In an older incarnation, I don’t just love you. I shamelessly worship you.” His head tilted and he scanned her face with sad, yet awed eyes. “I never knew that would be possible.”

Rose closed her eyes and let out a long breath through her nose. When she opened them again, she was unable to continue looking up into his eyes, and instead focused on the folds of silk at his neck. “You’re mistaken,” she sighed. “You saw him through my eyes, Doctor. Felt my own feelings for him. Don’t mistake those for how he felt about me.”

“I’m not,” he vowed fiercely.

“You are.”

“I want to kiss you,” he blurted out suddenly on a shaking breath. “Well. I say _want_ , but I really mean to say that I _need_ to kiss you.”

Rose shook her head free of his hand and struggled out of his hold. “No. Please Doctor. Please don’t.”

He remained on his knees in the grass as she rose to a stand beside him. Her head was still shaking and she refused to look down at him. “You’re just caught up in the emotions, is all. You do’t need to do anythin’ like that at all.”

He didn’t stand, instead, he held his arms out either side of him, low and pensive, and remained in his penitent position at her feet. “Of course I’m caught up in it, Rose. How can I not be. I just witness love in it’s truest incarnation. How can I not get drawn into that?”

She flicked her head toward him now, her eyes narrowed and chiding. “You’re caught up in my feelings, Doctor, not his.”

He still didn’t rise to his feet. “That’s where you’re wrong, Rose. Oh, you are so wrong.” Slowly he drew himself up on his knees. He held his hand to her to ask for her assistance in getting to a stand and was thankful when she took his hand in his and tugged.

Once on his feet, the Doctor didn’t relinquish his hold on her hand. Instead he held it tightly. “Rose. I saw just as much from myself as I did from you.”

“My perception,” she ventured warily. “My _perception_ of him.”

He smiled and shook his head. “There are no perceptions in real memories, Rose.” He tugged her hand to draw her closer to him. “I understand the words of a Gallifreyan, and their hidden meanings and nuances. I understood much more than you could ever possibly comprehend about that moment.”

She inhaled a shaking, shuddering breath and blinked her eyes in a silent request for him to continue.

He took her other hand in his and drew both thumbs across her knuckles as he took a small step closer. A series of soft alien words fell from his lips. It wasn’t the phrasing that he’d used with her previously, but she recognised the sounds falling from his lips as those spoken by her own Doctor so many months ago.

His words switched from Gallifreyan to English without pause. “Awe,” he began. “Awe in how amazing and courageous you are.” Gallifreyan came again quickly and switched back to English just as fast. “Salvation. In my future I am reverent to you for saving me…”

“He always saves us,” Rose whispered hoarsely. “And far more times than I’ve ever chanced saving him.” She shrugged. “Swingin’ from a chain is hardly all that worthy of awe…” Her eyes widened. “Oh! Bad Wolf?” She frowned and shook her head. “No. That was after…”

The Doctor’s brow lifted. “Bad Wolf? That’s in reference to my quandary that evening. Was it as dangerous as I was worried it would be?”

She shook her head, then nodded, and then moved to a nod-shake mix of her head. Her right eye squinted just slightly. “Yes. And, well, no. Bad Wolf herself wasn’t a threat, but the situation that took us toward Bad Wolf was.”

“I see,” he breathed out. “And who is the Bad Wolf, then?”

Her voice fell to a whisper. “I can’t tell you that.” She pulled her hands from his and smiled weakly. “All I’ll say is that it was the worst day my life.” Her inhale was a gulp. “I lost my entire world that day.”

“I regenerated,” he concluded with a nod. His eyes lifted to hers and he offered her a gaze of apology. “I’m so sorry for doing that to you, Rose.”

“So am I,” she agreed selfishly. “I wish it never happened.”

There was silence between them for a moment, with neither knowing exactly what to say. But it didn’t take too long for Rose to draw in a deep inhale, wipe roughly at her eyes with the back of her hand, and then lever a stare at him. Surprising herself, her voice was now level and void of emotion at all. 

“So I really dunno just what it was I saved him from that would make him – as you say – so reverent toward me about it.” She shrugged. “Because I’m really flat out of ideas.”

“No,” he corrected softly. “Its deeper than that.” His eyes lifted to the dark sky above them as he contemplated the translation. “It’s a hard one, really, to translate into English.” His eyes closed a moment and then he lowered his head once more to look again at her. “This rescue of yours. It’s the salvation of him, ehm, from a purely emotional standpoint.” His head shook. “I obviously don’t yet know just what pit of despair you saved him from as it hasn’t happened for me yet, but whatever it was, it was profound enough that he promised you his most reverent love and devotion inside this, and every incarnation following him.”

Rose belched out a sound of incredulous amusement. “Oh, yeah. Right. That’s a laugh, isn’t it. As soon as he flipped from loving partner to dedicated flirt and playboy, that promise was broken. Shattered!” Her eyes rolled and she shook her head. “Which – just to give you a relative time frame on that promise – was the following day .. or, night. Whatever, within 24 hours at any rate.” She looked away from him. “He doesn’t care for me in that way anymore.”

He folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. “No. I don’t believe that for a moment. Not based on what I just saw, and how incredibly deeply he felt for you.”

Rose laughed indignantly, her head raised to the heavens to exaggerate her mirth. “Oh. Please.” She looked back at him again. “When a bloke’s blood has left his brain to flood his groin, he’ll think and say anything to get it wet.”

“That is incredibly crass,” he growled in reply as he paced in a tight circle around her.. “And quite insulting.”

Her eyes widened, and she smiled widely – leaning toward him in a very brattish manner. “Good! I’m glad to hear it.” She wiped her hands together and tipped up a shoulder. “Well, now that you feel as shit as I do right now, my job is done. Time to go home, watch telly, eat fish and chips, get a job, all that…”

His eyes darkened as she walked quite arrogantly away from him and toward his TARDIS. Oh, but she was a feisty one, wasn’t she? A challenge, no doubt, for his elder self to try and tame … not quite surprising, really, that he fell for her.

Problem for young Rose, is that the Doctor was by far the more arrogant and testy one of the two of them, and he’d quite happily play this gave and come out the victor.

“Well, now that you’re obviously feeling better: Home it is, then,” he chirped from his position in the field behind her. “Off to Crandinia, we go. Back to the playboy me and his TARDIS.” 

She stopped and looked back over her shoulder at him. “No,” she sang out. “Home. My home. My home as in Longon, England, Britain, Earth, Solar System…Milky Way or whatever.”

Her shook his head and spoke with gentle warning. “No, I won’t be taking you to that home, Rose.” He warned her. “At least not to watch telly and eat fish and chips – rubbish past times the both of them.” He thrust his hands into his trouser pockets and followed behind her. Smiling as she slowed up and then stopped short. “It’s obvious that you and my older self had obviously had a serious case of misunderstanding at some juncture that needs to be rectified. Immediately.”

Her smiled in a very friendly manner and let his voice cut close to her as he strode past to overtake her toward the TARDIS. “And I’m just the right person to be able to get you there. How very remarkable your luck is today.”

“You once told me, Doctor,” she said quietly and without moving forward, “that if I ever wanted to leave, you’d let me go. No questions asked.”

The Doctor paused short. His shoulders pinched to straighten his back. After a moment, his posture relaxed and he spun to give her a wide smile. “My dear girl. I’m not asking any questions at all. I am, however, making the best decision on your behalf – and ultimately mine – to get you back to your _real_ home and to the one you truly need to return to.”

Her eyes darkened hotly and she sizzled the most threatening glare she conjure up at him. “So you’re saying, what? That you’re kidnapping me?”

His returning smile was rather facetious. “Well, it never was an option removed from the table then we first encountered each other. Not nefarious, but kidnapping may be involved. So yes. I am, quite.”

Rose’s jaw dropped a moment with disbelief, but she shook off her surprise and let it shift to annoyance. She curled a lip as she quickly made her way toward the TARDIS to close the distance between them both. She levered herself up onto her toes in an attempt to bring her eyes to his level. “Why are you doing this to me?” she snarled.

His response was swift and unexpected. He lunged forward to take her by the hips. He growled low in the back of his throat and spun them both to press her up against the faded blue wood of the TARDIS door. He inhaled her surprised gasp through his smile as he pressed on hand against the wood beside her head and curved the other around her hip to lift her just slightly off the ground to bring their hips hard against each other. 

“I’m doing this,” he growled hotly as his hand balled into a fist against the TARDIS and his forehead pressed hard against hers. “Because what I saw in that memory. What I _felt_..” He pulled hard at her hips to press himself against her. “In that memory.” He exhaled and licked at his lips. “That’s worth fighting for.” He rolled his forehead against hers, closing his eyes, and pulled her yet tighter. “I’m not giving up and letting go of that before it’s even happened for me.”

She whimpered his name as he pressed their hips more tightly together. Oh, she wanted to free herself from his hold, but at the same moment she could bring herself to pull away, not wanting to relinquish his attentions at all.

His eyes flashed open wide to capture hers. His voice was a fierce promise. “I’m not moving toward a future where I lose the one thing I come to hold most dear to me because my most recent regeneration had some kind of catastrophic malfunction and I’ve ended up a prat instead of the man worthy of your affections.”

Their eyes locked for a long moment and they said nothing further. The only sound between them were their shared panted breaths and the tingle of shared lust between them. Finally Rose inhaled to speak his name, and it spurned the Doctor into action. He said nothing as he lowered his mouth to hers to claim her with a searing, and possessive kiss.

It was hard, selfish, and far more chaste than it should have been, and no sooner had he claimed her mouth so passionately, he’d pulled away.

Rose actually found herself chasing his mouth with hers and was rewarded with a nip at her lip. She exhaled and staggered when he finally and roughly released her to take a long stride backward. He didn’t even straighten the seat of his coat before he thrust one hand into his trouser pocket and retrieved a small fob watch from his waistcoat.

“Well, that was very…” He cleared his throat and swallowed thickly. “Right,” he finally chirped with a smile of reddened lips as he checked the time on his watch. “I’ll set the temporal coordinates to land us at the close of the nightly Crandinian storm. “I can have you with my elder self in, oh, say five minutes our time?” He lifted his head to the Police Box sign over the TARDIS doors. “Let’s drop in on him, oh, about an hour or so after the storm. Give him some time to completely worry himself into a state.” His smile stretched. “Yes, that would be appropriate, I think, given his actions toward you of late. Should teach him well enough, I believe. Serve him right and all that.”

Rose blinked her eyes in rapid succession at the sudden demeanour change of the Doctor. Oh sure, she was used to the constantly switching of her current Doctor between manic, panic, mad, and wistful, but this … this ….

…Oh what was she thinking? The man had no standard mood that could take him past five seconds on any stretch. She decided against question or contemplation and decided to simply run with the mood, switching course as quickly as he did.

Sometimes it was the only way to survive him.

It took a moment for her to realise that he was talking to her, and she lifted her head to take him in – still dishevelled and undignified, but acting like he was the model of perfection. “I’m sorry, Doctor. What was that?”

“I asked if you wish to bathe, or maybe take a rest before I take you back to future me?” he repeated with only a small amount of admonishment in his voice. “Whilst I do very much desire to take you back to me now and have this entire misunderstanding between yourselves worked out immedieately so that you can both get back to your, ehm, pre-regeneration nocturnal activities.” His face broke into a smile. “And an eventual soul-bonding as well, I would imagine. Which reminds me, Rose. Along the way, do remind me that I need to teach you to speak an appropriate response in my people’s tongue on the next occasion that you are presented with these words so that you can blindside me with accepting my proposal.”

Rose was tempted to gape her mouth at him with surprise, but to be frank, she really had no energy left to even try. Instead she let out a breath, rolled her eyes, and walked toward him. She held out her hand to him. “Give,” she requested tiredly.

He looked at her warily. “Give you what?” he asked her carefully.

“Your jacket,” she clarified with a shrug. “It’s cooling down somewhat and as your rather superior biology doesn’t register the cold like my inferior one doesn’t, then the gentlemanly thing for you to do would be to offer me your coat.”

One brow lifted, the other fell down over his eye. “Or I can direct you toward the TARDIS, where you can warm yourself up well enough.”

She shook her head and kept her hand out in a request for his jacket. “No thank you. Now, if you would be so kind as to give me your jacket.”

He huffed and rolled his shoulders, letting the garment fall down over his arms and into his hands. He held it out to her. “As you wish.”

She rewarded him with a brilliantly wide grin. “Thank you.”

He opened his mouth to query as to when she might accompany him back to Crandinia, but stopped that thought when she walked toward a tree, balling up the jacket in her hands. His brow furrowed and he tilted his head in question. “And just what are you doing? That’s a rather expensive – and easily creased – finely tailored jacket. It will take a marvel to straighten that out again.”

She rolled her eyes and dropped down to her knees, and then her hip, settling herself on the grasses at the base of the tree. “You mean that it’ll take the TARDIS a while to straighten it out,” she corrected as she lay down onto her side and tucked the jacket underneath her head. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m tired and would like to have a sleep before I make any further decisions on my future.”

His arm lifted to once again gesture toward his ship. “Again, Rose. The TARDIS will be more than willing to provide you with far more comfortable warmth and sleeping arrangments.”

She closed her eyes and let out a short laugh. “Yeah, and while I’m sleeping, you’ll fly us back to Crandinia to meet up with your older self. No, ta. Not ready to wake up and face him before a strong cup of morning tea – or coffee with a half bottle of whiskey in it.”

“I see,” he drawled. “And if I promise not to?”

Her eyes remained closed and she shook her head on her makeshift pillow. “With all due respect, Doctor. I really don’t have it in me to gift you with that much trust right now.”

“I see.”

“You’re repeating yourself.”

He pursed his lips, whether in amusement or annoyance, he couldn’t immediately determine. Seems that this young lady was as bullheaded as he was oftentimes arrogant. OF course, he wasn’t going to argue with her – there didn’t seem to be much point to it. If he was going to convince her to work it out with his elder self – which was an imperative – then he would have to have her favour…

…Because there was no way in Kasterborous that he would be taking her home to London.

He looked at her as she let out a little whimpering sigh as she settled. He then smirked. 

“So, ehm. Rose?”

She didn’t open her eyes. “Yes, Doctor?”

He couldn’t help his widening grin. “Need yourself that Time Lord blanket?”

Very quickly that balled up jacket of his was launched with extreme precision at his belly. His shock didn’t allow him to immediately register the insult she threw his way – it was either being told to sod off, get lost, or to stop being a wanker. Either way, he got the message to keep his distance and he sighed as he tossed the jacket back to her and then thumbed over his shoulder. “I’ll just go and sit over here on this rock, then. I’m fairly positive I’ll find company in a flubble, trunkite, woprat, or something else to pass the time.”

“Good night, Doctor,” she slurred sleepily, and with finality to the conversation.

“Indeed, right. Good night and sweet dreams to you, Rose.”

The concession in his tone made her smile, and within only a short few moments, she’d fallen asleep. Lulled by the tinkling sounds of silver leaves above her head and the fruity scent of the blossoms covering the ground.


	4. Deal Making

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor's made a decision ... will Rose agree?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't normally write on weekends because I have to do family stuff ... but I got a couple of hours to myself today and managed to get a wee snippet out.
> 
> I do hope you enjoy.
> 
> Thank you again for all of your wonderful comments and kudos ... oh, but they make you want to write!!!
> 
> GK

~~oooOOOooo~~

Rose awoke to the sound of woodland creatures chirping and snuffling, and the kiss of warm sunlight on her nose. The air around her was sweet with floral scent, and of the soft whiff of the dying embers of a fire. She slapped her lips together to properly wet her tongue and rubbed at her nose with the butt of her hand. She held her eyes closed for only a moment longer, worried of the squinting blindness of bright sunlight on eyes not yet ready for the brightness.

To prepare, she covered her eyes with her forearm and peeked gingerly around the dusty knitted cotton fabric of her shirt. Her senses immediately heightened to full awareness, and she listened to the sounds around her, wondering if she was alone out here, or if the Doctor had done as he suggested and would find animal companionship while she was sleeping.

His low murmur of conversation toward the cliff’s edge let her know that he must’ve found such companionship. Curious, she lowered her forearm and squinted into the brightness to investigate. He was, indeed, seated toward the cliff’s edge. He sat upon a large boulder beside what appeared to be a ring of smaller rocks surrounding a dying campfire of green and blue embers. There was a grey furry creature on his knees. With one hand he petted the creature’s head, the other was held underneath the munching mouth of it, full of purple berries which were obviously a delightful treat to the animal.

He spoke to it on a soft voice that purred, trilled, and chipped in a language she’d only heard on nature shows with Sir David Attenborough back at school … and none of those languages were spoken by the Sir himself. They were the chirping and trilling between animals.

Very intriguing. When her first Doctor had boasted that he could speak 8 billion languages, she never considered for a moment that any of those would be animal languages.

The creature stopped munching for a moment when it caught sight of her looking, and then lifted it’s head to trill out a sound of warning toward the Doctor.

“Yes I know,” the Doctor answered the creature – in English for her benefit she mused, “She’s been awake for a full five minutes now. I do wonder at what point Rose – and that’s her name young Flubble – will announce her waking to us.” He then switched back to chirping and trilling, to which the creature seemed to nod and go back to the feast offered in the hand of the Doctor.

“This is a Flubble,” the Doctor lectured gently without looking back at her. “They’re a tree-dwelling animal indigenous to the forests here on Mount Lung.” He lifted his head to look across the cliff’s edge and the dense forest below. “Very trusting and curious little things, they are. They love munching on fresh fionberries and engaging in conversation about the climate changes that present each passing of Quences comet, which was only about two weeks ago, if the colouring of the sunrise is any indication.”

He finally looked back at her and tipped his head to gesture toward the Flubble. “Quite the little meteorologists, and much more accurate than any ground hog from Earth.”

Rose slowly drew herself to a stand, cricked her neck, and stretched tall with a moan. Her arms were still held high above her head when she felt movement at her left foot. She froze in place and let out a whimper of fright to see a small, grey, furry six-limbed creature pawing at her foot. “Doctor?”

He twisted in place to look at her and let one side of his mouth lift into a smile at the young Flubble at her feet. He let out a trilling purr. “Say that, Rose.”

Rose’s arms were still held up above her head, and her eyes were wide with worry. They shifted from the animal to the Doctor. “Excuse me?”

He repeated the sound. “Just say that, Rose. This little one’s looking for some attention as his mother is currently feeding. It’ll let him know he’s safe with you.”

“I don’t think ‘e’s all that scared, Doctor,” she whimpered. “Looks like he’s about to cock a leg and pee on me… And is six legs normal?”

“Very normal,” he sang back without worry or any real acknowledgement to her growing panic. “I’ve told you what you need to do, so if you don’t want to end up with Flubble urine on your runners, then make the sound I’ve told you to make, and let him know you’re not a peeing post.”

Rose’s arms finally fell and she winced as she tried to replicate the sound that the Doctor had told her to make. It wasn’t a perfect replication by any means, but it seemed to do the trick, and the Flubble stopped shuffling and looked up at her.

“It worked,” she breathed with relief.

“Yes, Rose,” the Doctor agreed. “Nice effort. And just as a warning, you may want to step away from it now, unless of course you want to end up as a….” His words paused when the small creature lifted its arms and jumped onto Roses leg. With rapid movements of each of its limbs, it quickly climbed up to Rose’s hip. “…tree it wants to climb. Yes. I might have thought to warn you about that before I urged you to invite … oh,” He shook his head with a smirk. “Never mind.”

Rose had winced, but not actually yelped in alarm. The curl of six arms racing up her leg felt in no way at all like a gigantic spider may have … Actually, it felt exactly as one might … which forced her into silence.

She hated spiders.

After a second, a small furry face – not unlike and Australian Koala – appeared between her bosom. It looked into her face and let out a loud chirp, one that she surmised must have been in greeting. She returned the chirp, hoping she wasn’t declaring war on it or something else as horrible. The creature clutched its arms – all six of them – either side of her chest and belly, dropped it’s small face n the valley between her breasts, and promptly fell asleep.

“I must remark: That was very well handled Rose. I’m impressed,” the Doctor’s voice suddenly sounded from right behind her, giving her more of a start than the Flubble had. “The combination of your inhale and return chirp and hard exhale invited the youngster to rest. I didn’t know that you were so fluent in Flubble. Do we have one on the TARDIS in my future?”

Rose cradled the little fluffy bottom of it to prevent it from falling, and shook her head at him. “Gotto be a first time that, getting’ it right by accident.” She shrugged. “And no. We don’t have one. I would have thought you’d’ve gotten that by my surprise at seein’ it.”

“I was aiming for jest,” he admitted with a sigh. “As much as I do like the creatures – I even had one as a pet back at the academy – there is no way I would allow one on the TARDIS.” He stroked the head of the flubble in between her breasts. “They don’t do well with time travel. They release an enzyme that doesn’t interact well with the TARDIS systems. Get one of these in the console room, and it’ll throw your navigation way off.”

“I see,” she drawled. “Then I might suspect you took one as a stowaway in yours – what, with your inability to get to where you actually want to go an all that.”

“No. That would be because I failed my capsule flight exams on several occasions back at the Academy.” He winked. “I’m just making it up as I go along. Sometimes I guess right, most times I guess wrong.”

She blew out a breath and shook her head. “I almost completely believe you on that.”

“You should,” he said with a smirk. “It’s true.” He reached forward to grab the Flubble by it’s sides. With gentle coaxing, he pulled it free of Rose’s chest and held it against his own. “I’ll take this youngster back to his mother. If you would like to go and perform the necessary ablutions required of all humans upon waking, then we can sit with a tea and discuss our next steps to getting you back to my older self.”

She felt her bladder agree with him and skipped from one foot to the other. “Okay. Right. I’m gonna go pee, and when I get back then we will discuss you takin’ me home. To London.”

“We will discuss it when you’re done.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

When Rose returned from peeing and washing her face, the Doctor had resumed his seat on the Rock. The Flubbles were now gone, and in his hands now was a purple blossom, which is was spinning between two fingers in the air in front of him.

“I’ve made a decision,” he announced firmly without looking at her.

“I see,” she drawled. She slowed her approach to him, but didn’t stop at all. “I’m guessin’ it’s one I probably won’t agree with bein’ that you’re being all authoritative and all when you say that. Like Mum when she’s puttin’ me on a grounding.”

He let the flower fall onto his lap and reached for a small golden thermal mug to his side. He held it up to her. “Gift from TARDIS. I’m not entirely sure of the composition of whatever is in there, but she assured me you’d appreciate it.”

Rose opened the thermos and lifted it to her nose. She inhaled deeply and them fell into a deep slouch and lazy smile. “Oh the TARDIS loves me, doesn’t she? A good English Breakfast, just the way I like it.”

The Doctor was now looking at her, analysis in his gaze. “Yes, it would seem that she does. Which I find very intriguing.”

“Nothing to be too intrigued by,” she assured him with a shrug. “I love her too. The Doctor told me that she exists across all of space and time, so no matter at what point I meet with her, she’ll know who I am.”

“Yeah,” he breathed out long and quietly. “If only it were that simple.”

Rose’s eyes flicked up. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” he called back. “We with have plenty of time to investigate the smaller anomalies and questions that I have. Right now we have more pressing matters to discuss.”

“Such as this _decision_ of yours?” she ventured facetiously. “because that is of the utmost importance.”

“Indeed it is,” he agreed. He petted on the rock beside him with invitation for her to take a seat. When she shook her head and waved off the invitation, he shrugged and leaned back. Supported by straight arms behind him, the Doctor tilted his head back and let the sun’s morning rays heat his face. “I’m not taking you to London,” he said flatly.

“Oh yes you are,” she snapped in reply. “If you know what’s good for you, an all.”

He twisted his head to look at her. “Indeed I do know what’s good for me, Rose. Which is why I’m not taking you to London…” He held up his hand to prevent her throwing in her argument. “..and I’m not taking you back to Crandinia.” He looked back across the forest. “I’ve decided to keep you here, on Gallifrey with me, for the next little while. At least until I know that whatever decision you eventually choose, is not one made by emotion.”

She dropped the thermos of tea to the ground in shock. “So you. You’re actually going to kidnap me and force me to stay with you?”

His lips pinched tightly together and his eyes tightened. He shook his head. “No. You are actually free to go at any time you want.” He pointed across the valley toward a shimmering dome off in the distance. “In Arcadia, they have plenty of travel capsules at their disposal. If you enter the city, give them your space and temporal coordinates, I’m sure they’ll take you home.” He smirked. “In fact I guarantee it. They don’t exactly admire Humans in the way that I do. They quite dislike them, actually. They’d be happy to ship you off and out of Kasterborous.” 

“But that’s got to be about 100 miles away!”

“Closer to 150 of your Earth miles, actually.” He looked back toward her. “And I’ll be very happy to take you there to let you plead your case to them. Throw in my name, and you won’t even have to beg…”

“So you’ll let _them_ take me home, but you won’t.”

His lip twitched at her confusion. “Yes, well. I’ll be busy looking for my elder self while you’re being transported home, Rose. I’ll find him, give him a few choice words in a language he probably won’t want to hear, and then let him know where he can find you.” He smiled a rather villainous smile at her. “My elder self will be waiting at those Capsule doors the moment the chancellery guards materialise.” He batted his eyes in a facetiously innocent manner. “How does that sound?”

Her mouth was wide and aghast. “So now you’re blackmailin’ me?”

The Doctor’s smile fell. His eyes shifted back toward the rising suns. He breathed a few breaths before he could speak, and Rose couldn’t help but notice the thin line of tears that traced at his eyes with light from the sun. She moved toward him, beside him, and waited for his explanation.

“I’m not blackmailing you, Rose,” he defended softly. “I’m begging you.” He inhaled deeply. “I can’t ignore what I saw. I can’t deny what I _felt_.” His head shook and his brows lifted into a high furrow. He continued to look ahead of him. “I need to understand what happens to us after my regeneration … what catastrophic malfunction happened – to make me make you think that everything I felt for you just fell away like that.”

He looked toward her hand and then reached out to grab it. He watched his thumb stroke at her knuckles. His voice switched to speak that very familiar Gallifreyan phrase that gave her butterflies in her belly. He broke for only a breath before switching back to English. “That’s not something to say on a whim.”

“You seem to be doing okay with it,” she ventured cautiously. 

He didn’t look up from his hand. “I can say it to you now because I’ve said it repeatedly to you in the future.” He finally looked up into her face, happy with having to look up at her instead of down. “And for me to have said that means that ….” He paused. “It means that my past, my present, and my future – especially my future – needs you.”

“Obviously not,” she breathed out soflty, sadly, in reply. “I dunno, Doctor. Maybe its because I’m Human. Maybe it doesn’t work between species.” She inhaled again. “But future you barely recognises my existence these days – not when something shinier and prettier comes along at any rate.”

He blinked and opened his mouth to protest and to tell her she was wrong, but she continued on.

“Oh, not always. I can’t say that I’m always a second thought… I’m good enough when it’s just me’n’him and his attention isn’t otherwise occupied. But get Sarah Jane, Reinette Poisson…”

“Sarah Jane,” the Doctor repeated with wideness and excitement in her eyes. “Sarah Jane Smith? Oh, I remember Sarah Jane. Wonderful companion and friend…”

“Yeah. She was an amazin’ woman,” she agreed with a shrug. “Can see why you fell for her when you were together.”

He shook his head. “While I did care for Sarah Jane very, very deeply, I didn’t – as you suggest – fall for her.” He wore a smile of remembrance. “We did go through quite a bit together. Like you, she survived a regeneration.”

“Yeah, like I said. She’s amazin’.”

“But not one I could ever see as a mate.” He inhaled through an open mouth. “At least not beyond friendly companionship.” He released her hand and rose to his full height. “I have had many companions with whom I’ve shared a very close relationship, Rose. Many wonderful, brilliant people who made me want to be a better person.”

She opened her mouth to speak, and he held up a hand to ask her to wait.

“But none of them have touched me so deeply and in such a profound way as you obviously have.” He tipped his head to one side and captured her eyes with his. “I never fought their will to leave me, and they did. All of them. They stayed with me for long enough to sow their wild oats – if you will – before settling down back when I found them. Being better for it, if I do say so.”

“But Doctor, you don’t even know me,” she sighed.

“Then stay with me a while and let me know you,” he chirped happily. “Here on Gallifrey.” He breathed out a huff. “Rassilon knows I should take a breather for a while and settle down a bit. I’ve been running and running and….”

“Blimey,” she drawled softly. “Just how long you thinkin’ of keeping me here?”

Hi brows lifted. “Pardon me?”

She shrugged. “Settle down a while, ‘lmost sounds like you want to set up house, raise a few kids, and retire from travel. How long are you planning to hold me hostage?”

He hummed thoughtfully, a smile on his face. “Does that sound like something you’d be interested in, Rose? Marriage? Children? House with a white picket fence?” He pursed his lips in thought. “That may take a while, so if that’s the plan, I suspect you can be here with me, for, well, how ever long it takes.” He adjusted his trousers by the belt. “It’s been a while since I’ve ehm, performed, in the manner we did in my future, but I’m certain I can remember how its done.” He ignored her wide eyed look of utter shock. “Procreation, however, well. That requires permission from council, which, well, permissions not something I’ve ever sought from them before, so I expect I’ll forego that.” He looked down at himself. “As for the functionality of my testies to produce enough…”

“Oh Jesus, Doctor!” she barked out with incredulous horror. “Are you insane?”

“I believe I have a certificate or two in the TARDIS to that effect,” he answered with a shrug. “And it’s been said on many occasions that I must be…”

“No. I mean,” she flicked her hand at him. “You sayin’ all that…”

“Not interested?” he asked with a cheeky grin. “Oh well break my hearts.”

She detected that hint of teasing and narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re playin about and messin’ with me. You damn plum.” She exhaled a breath she forgot she’d been holding.

“And you sound far too relieved about that,” he said with a wink.

“And you too,” she replied through puckered lips. 

His smile softened. “I’m asking you to stay with me for as long as you need it in order to come to a much clearer understanding of what and where you want to go from here. It could be a day, a week, a month, a year, a decade. As long as you need to.” He took her hand again. “Spend some time here in Gallifrey. Learn about my people, my home, and learn to understand me, and who I am: more than just the jetsetting time boy you think you know.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “Maybe if you know me, and why I am like I am, then it may help you navigate the new me who seems so … so out of sorts to you.”

She looked off to the side.

“If you love me, Rose, like I think you do, then you’ll give me that chance.”

Her eyes pinched. “That is the worst thing to say, you know: If you love me…” She sniffed. “That’s blackmail right there, and makes me want to tell you to sod off…”

He sensed a “but” in there. “But…?” His voice was hopeful.

“But you’re right,” she admitted. “You’re an alien…”

“Uh…”

“Yeah, okay, I’m the alien,” she said with a roll in her eye. “So we’re different, you an me. What you’re sayin’ makes sense. Best way to really get to know you deep down in those ways that you really don’t want me to, is to see more’n just the man.” Her smile was wide and her voice breathy as she looked around. “And really. Gallifrey? Yes. I want to be here for a while and take in everything that I can so when I go back… I’ll get it.”

That made his grin spread wide. “We’re already making headway,” he half cheered.

“:Excuse me, what?”

He curled around her and chuckled against her hair. “You’re considering going back to me.”

“I’m considering multiple options,” she corrected. She flicked up a finger into his face. “So I’ll stay with you for a couple of days, but I’ve got rules.”

His jaw fell. “You’ve got, what?”

“Rules,” she repeated. “All of which include: No touchy feely handsy stuff.” He watched his brow furrow in confusion. “That means no grabbing my boobs, getting’ in my head, going for snogs or asking me if I want you to be my blanket.”

He held up both hands and took a step back. “No touching…” He lifted his head and tilted it to one side with question. “Does that also include hand holding, Rose? I’m rather partial to that when walking with a beautiful female companion, and so habit might see me reach for you without thinking.”

“You’re kidding me…”

He sighed. “I wish I was.”

She shook her head with disbelief. “Yeah. Then. Okay. You can hold my hand. But that’s it, mind. Just because I’ve engaged in the most incredible love making sessions in my whole life with one of you, doesn’t mean it’s a free for all with the rest of you lot.”

“Only one?” he queried. “so you and your current Doctor have never..?”

She dropped her face into her hands. “Oh my God. I can’t believe this…”

“You brought it up,” he reminded her with a smirk. “And as I consider this part of your therapy – Just call me Doctor…”

She lifted her head. “I really hate you.”

His smile faltered and he took on a more serious, yet gentle tone. “No holds barred, Rose. Sometimes to understand, we have to talk about embarrassing things.”

“Then remember, that goes both ways,” she warned him. “In order to get to know you.”

He grinned widely and shifted to thread his arm across her shoulder. He paused when he took in the look of warning in her eyes. He let it drop. “Yes. Right. Not acceptable. Understood.”

“Neither is bursting into my room without knocking, sitting on the other side of my bathroom door like a cat waiting for me to be done, or whining when I’m trying to sleep because you want me to go and do something with you.”

A brow lifted. “Oh-kay.”

“You can’t be getting’ jealous if I talk to someone else of the opposite sex. No random hugs here and there, no cutesy names for who we are as a couple.”

He looked horrified. “Older me, or newer older me?”

“Pinstripes,” she clarified. “My current Doctor.”

His eyes were wide as he blew out a perplexed breath. “Rassilon…” He shifted his eyes toward her. “And you say that he’s lost his love for you?” He shook his head. “Rose, I would say it’s quite the opposite.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Snogged no less than tthree women, Doctor. Married one he did, too!” She pursed her lips. “Okay, one of them he thought was me, but it wasn’t because someone had taken over my body, oh, and how did that happen? Because he took off and got into an elevator without me. Never mind that there’s a button inside it that can hold the door open till I got there. No, couldn’t take his hands out of his pockets, could he?”

He coughed, looked like he wanted to say something, and then shook off that thought. “Right…”

“Oh, and then, right after telling me he’d never leave me behind, he did just that – on a space station – so he could go and fool about with Reinette.” She looked him up and down. “I guess once I taught you how to start usin’ it again and all, you ran with it.”

“I told you,” he growled. “That his pledge to you means that would have never happened.” He stood straight. “I believe that you may be reading far too much into things and making inaccurate assumptions.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m not.”

“Have you tried talking to him about your fears and insecurities?”

“Yeah,” she hissed out. “I have. But you don’t like to talk about anything, so after I get lectured on the Curse of the Time Lord and how he has to watch me wither and die at some point, he shuts down and the conversation is over.”

He seemed startled by that. “Well. That’s rather dramatic.” He looked around him. “And the life incompatibility is one that’s easily rectified. Just move back to Gallifrey, you won’t age here.”

“Excuse me, what?”

He laughed out a breathy frustrated sound. “And as for not talking about anything, well that’s absolute rubbish. Al I ever do is talk.”

“You might talk, Doctor, but you don’t actually say much.” She huffed. “And you certainly don’t answer the tough questions.”

He snorted. “ _tough_ question,” he barked incredulously. “There aren’t any tough questions that I can’t answer. There’s nothing I won’t tell you if you ask me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She smirked. “Then okay. Here’s one: What’s your name?”

He rolled his eyes. “Doctor.”

“Your real one,” she clarified. “I know that you weren’t called Doctor here on Gallifrey. What is your name? I want to know, but you won’t tell me.”

He frowned at that. “But Rose. I have. In my future I’ve told you my name repeatedly. I’ve said it myself twice since I’ve met you.”

Her face lengthened in surprise. “What? When?”

“My proposal,” he said softly, with mild hurt in his tone. “It includes my name – which is why it’s such a sacred phrase in my people’s language.” His voice was a whisper. “You already _know_ my name.”

“Tell me?” she pleaded. “So I know which part?”

He shook his head. “In time, Rose,” he vowed. “When you’re ready – which isn’t right now.”

She nodded.

“But off that,” he declared with a wide grin and a 180 spin on his mood. “Now that we have everything agreed to: You’ll stay with me to be more level headed in your decision making, and I won’t be the octopus, or an annoying cat. We should make plans for excusions. I’m thinking a lunch on the banks of the Cadonflood river. They have an amazing rockpool at the base of Mount Lung, that has natural airflow in it – very much like a hot tub back on Earth, only not full of electrical wiring and gaudy lights…”

His eyes widened as much as his grin. “Oh, and have I ever told you about where that phrase came from, and that if you look very carefully at the La Sagrada Familia, you’ll see where I may… or may not … have had a teeny tiny bit of influence…

Rose dropped her head with a laugh. She shook her head a moment, and waited for him to finish up before lifing her head and rewarding him with a wide smile. “Fine, Doctor. I’ll go for lunch with you, but first things first.” She held her dusty and torn t-shirt at the bottom and shrugged at him. “I need a shower and some new clothes.”

He narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips in analysis. “Quite right,” he agreed. “TARDIS will show you where the bathroom is, and will have a room and some clothing for you. Please take your time to freshen up, and I’ll go to the kitchen to pack lunch.”

“Promise me we’re stayin put here?”

He moved to touch her shoulder, but switched to take her hand instead. “I promise you, Rose. Until you and I are both ready, the TARDIS knows she’s not moving anywhere.”

She visibly relaxed. “Oh. Good. Thanks.” He rolled up onto her toes to kiss his cheek, but held back at the last second. “I. I’ll just go now.”

“You do that.”

“I will.”

“I know.”

They both remained in place. He gestured eagerly toward the TARDIS. “Well go on, then. Time for the Human to wash herself up. Quite frankly, my dear, you are beginning to get a little on the nose.”

Her eyes widened, she peeped, and she took off to the TARDIS. “Okay! Won’t be long.”

The Doctor shook his head as he slowly followed her rushed path. He put one hand into his trouser pocket and set the other one on the faded blue TARDIS door. He looked at his oldest friend and blew out a breath. “Dear. I hope we’re doing the right thing here.” He felt the hum underneath his hand and nodded. “I know. I know. I feel it too.” He exhaled. “She can’t leave Gallifrey … I can't allow her to. Not yet. Not yet. I just wish I knew why.”


	5. Unicorns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and the Doctor take a trip to the Crystal Cascades at the base of Mount Lung...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a wee bit of time to write today, and therefore didn't get as much into things as i wanted to. This is really just a bit of fluffy nonsense, and I hope you enjoy what it has to offer.
> 
> We will move on from here, I promise.

~~oooOOOooo~~

The garment that the TARDIS had gifted to her for this outing was as far opposite of the spectrum of what she’d normally wear by … well … by an entire galaxy, she reckoned. It started as a long-sleeved, straight cream-coloured tunic that dropped down as far as her ankles. There were a pair of drawstrings at the waist, and when she pulled at them, both sides of the tunic gathered and lifted as high as her knees. The material wasn’t exactly thick and cumbersome, although it did look as though it should be, and so after the sides had been pulled up, the front and back of it draped down with a soft arch. Over her bosom, the tied the laces of a brilliant-crimson leather-style vest. It hugged and curved her bosom in the same way a corset might, but in a manner that actually allowed her to breathe comfortably. The soft fabric of the tunic gathered neatly above the stop of the vest to maintain her dignity. The TARDIS had opted to accessorise the outfit with a soft pair of dark-brown leather boots that rode up to Rose’s calves and laced daintily down the front with cream coloured laces that matched the colour of her tunic.

Throwing her hair up in a messy bun, Rose took a moment to take in her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror the TARDIS had put in her room. She wasn’t a complete fan of the look – it was far too 19th century for her liking – but it would do. She snatched a pair of sunglasses from the dresser and skipped through the corridors of the TARDIS eager to see where the Doctor intended on taking them for lunch.

When she skipped out of the ship and into the bright sunlight, Rose lifted her forearm to shield her eyes. She flicked open her glasses with the other hand and quickly shifted them onto her nose. As she fought her eyes to accept the brightness shadow fell across her face. She blinked for clarity and wound up faze to nuzzle with a rather large animal that snorted impatiently in her face.

She yelped and took a jump back. “Doctor!”

“Right here, Rose,” he cut in jovially. “I see you’ve met Sangorosangrass…”

“San-what?” she asked incredulously as she finally cleared her vision to look around the nose of the animal. She heard the Doctor repeat the name with a mild amount of annoyance in his voice, but basically ignored him to take in the creature before her. It was very much like a horse, with a long strong nose, muscular long and lean legs that tapered down to hooves. It’s mane was brilliant and translucent in the bright sunshine. In the middle of it’s forehead was a long and tapered horn that shimmered different colours as it shook it’s head and snorted with impatience.

“Oh my God,” she breathed out in awe. “It. It’s a Unicorn!”

“Well, actually, the species is Tillogrippul,” the Doctor corrected as he appeared at her side, two sets of reins in his hand. He petted at the nose of the beast and rolled a series of different sounds from his mouth. The beast nodded and slowly took a four-legged stride backward. “They’re native to the Kssterboreon nebulas, not to Gallifrey, per se. Although, since their introduction, they’ve become part of the landscape here on Lung, and along the Cadonflood River.: He petted the (A/N: I’m calling it a Unicorn from herein) Unicorn’s thick neck. “They’ve adapted quote well to our climate, and to the time energies of Gallifrey.” HE rubbed his chin. "Didn't do so well on Earth, though..."

“They’re beau’iful,” Rose breathed in awe as she lifted her hand to try and touch the horn.

The Doctor quickly snatched her wrist. “No!” he yelped. “Don’t touch that!. For the sake of us both, please don’t touch.”

Rose quickly snapped her hand back out of his hold and held it against her chest. Her voice was worried. “What? Why?”

His face creased with discomfort. “That horn. Well.” He rubbed at the back of his head. “It’s very much an … ehm … a phallic appendage.”

Rose’s eyes blew wide. “You mean that - that’s its .. you know?” She circled her finger downward in a gesture toward his groin.

The Doctor took a moment to try and understand what she was indicating. When he understood he actually shifted his hips backward and dropped a hand in front as though covering nakedness. “Well! Oh. Yes, I mean: No!.” He cleared his throat. “I mean. What I mean to say is that it does serve the function of acting as a hypersensitive pleasure centre, but it’s not his – ehm – reproductive organ.” He pointed toward the beast’s groin. “Which is located where you would expect it to be.”

Rose’s brows were still high, her eyes still wide. “You mean he has _two_ of them?” She chuckled and shook her head. “Don’t tell the blokes back home that, they’d be horribly jealous.”

He sniffed indignantly at the thought. “They can barely control the one of them,” he groused. “They’d cease to function if they had another. And no, Rose. They only have the one true sexual appendage – which is located underneath the animal. The horn is more of a telepathic receptor … which serves more of a … pleasurable function than anything else.”

“Okay, so one’s for a quick bit of slap and tickle, the other for..”

“Can we please cease the discussion on this topic,” he finally bellowed out, discomfort contorting his features. “Whether or not a Tillogrippul engages in slap and tickle or reproductive mating is highly irrelevant and really uncomfortable to talk about.” He handed Rose a rein. “Now if you will, please mount your steed so we can be off.”

Rose’s face contorted somewhat as she held in her laughter at was a really, truly, juvenile interpretation of his words. Oh, but she had some lines of retort and rebuttal that were just sheer majesty. As her mind waded through each and every one of them, she found herself spitting out a laugh to violently that the Doctor had to wipe his cheek of spittle.

“If you think I don’t know what you’re thinking…,” he droned sardonically.

“Oh. Oh,” she managed in between laughs. She clutched at her belly to try and settle herself a little. “You really don’t wanna know what I’m thinking.”

“I was your age once, you know,” he sniffed back as he kicked his leg and deftly mounted the back of the animal. “I’m fully aware of the myriad of meanings of the word _mount_ , and just where the mind of an adolescent heads on hearing that word.” He gestured toward her animal with a jut of his chin. “Now please. If you will.”

Rose shrugged and rather awkwardly hooked her foot into a small leather loop that hung down from a matching leather mat that had been corseted around the beast’s belly. There was no saddle, and therefore no saddle horn for her to hold to leverage herself up, So Rose found herself having to apologise for grabbing a handful of iridescent mane. The animal stomped impatiently, but didn’t seem to protest at her pulling at its hair to get up. It certainly took a minute, but Rose finally found the strength to throw her leg around the back and settle in place.

“One,” she said finally, when she shifted to find comfort and was able to look at him. “I’ve moved beyond adolescence. Happened a long time ago. It’s called bein’ a human, you know. No matter what, the mind heads there. If you weren’t so repressed about it, yours might do the same.”

“I never said it didn’t,” he shot back with a shrug. “I just don’t tend to cheer about it when it does.” He looked at her moving uncomfortably on the back of her ride. “Are you okay?”

“Gimme a mo’,” she asked with the wave of her hand. “Bare thighs on leather might end up with real good consequences on this end.”

He slumped. “Do you need to go change – _again_?”

“Nahhh,” she drawled out with a laugh. “I got this.” She straightened her legs to lift her self up, and then roughly tucked several folds of her lose tunic fabric underneath her. It didn’t take more than a few seconds for her to have completely eliminated any chance of skin against leather, but it did leave her with far more exposed leg than either of them had hoped for. She looked up at him with a big grin. “There! All better now.”

“You might want to consider sunscreen,” he circled his finger in the air toward her thighs.

Rose merely shrugged. “Could do with getting’ a bit of sun, these old things. And b’sides. If’n I get burned beying all recognition out here, theTARDIS has some of the best after sun gel in the universe. So I’m good.”

He nodded with a roll in his eyes. “If you’re very sure, then.” He kicked his heels to get his steed walking and flicked his hand over her shoulder in an order for her to follow. “Now come along. Just a small kick and your Tillogrippul will start to move.”

Rose nodded eagerly and kicked lightly. Her Tillogrippul stomped a couple of times in place, and when whinnied and quickly jumped to walk to the Doctor’s side. Having never ridden on horseback before, Rose whimpered and yelped as she struggled in her attempts to control the creature – not that it apparently needed control.

“Just relax,” the Doctor advised with a sigh. “These two are a mated pair, where one goes so will the other. He’s not going to take off on you.” He looked back. “I’m in control of this one’s telepathic sensors,” he slapped it a couple of times against its neck and looked back to the front. “Even if she was so inclined to bolt, she can’t.”

Rose frowned, but relaxed. “So what’dya mean you’re telepathically in control?”

He pointed to the horn. “That is a telepathic receptor. I’m telepathic. Far moreso than a Tillogrippul is at any rate…”

“Hold on,” Rose spluttered with a rise of her hand. “You mean to tell me that you’ve got this beautiful creature in a brain-lock? Takin’ away all its will? Isn’t that a bit cruel?”

He shrugged. “You’ve simplified it enough to make it sound cruel, but it isn’t. Far less that mouth bits, spurs, and whips like your lot use to control your horses back on Earth.” His eyes traced the far horizon. “Telepathic control is much less painful and leaves no aftereffects at all.”

Rose snorted. “Don’t be so sure of that, Doctor. Took me a long while to get over having my head taken over back on New Earth.”

He rocked as he nodded his head. “You did mention that adventure. Was this with the new me, or your first me?”

“Second,” she clarified. “It was actually our first trip after his regeneration.” She exhaled sadly. “And the first time he forgot about me.”

“Can you tell me about it,” he queried with interest. “Regale me with the tale of your adventure.” His lip curled up into a smile. “And by the time you’re finished, we should be at Crystal Cascades.”

“Sounds lovely. I can’t wait to see it.”

“We’ll be there shortly, he promised. “And so please, tell me about New Earth, and how I let you down.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Rose was finalising her tale of New Earth, and how Cassandra had finally repented when she and The Doctor finally broke through the forest and onto the banks of the Cadonflood river. The two Tillogrippuls wasted no time in rushing to the crystal clear waters to take a drink. Her own steed moved so quickly that Rose was unable to maintain her balance. With a yelp, she fell backward over the rump of the animal. She fell into a pair of waiting arms, rather than the rocky ground below, and heard a chuckling in her ear.

“Not very graceful, now, are you, Rose?”

Still in his arms, Rose folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes at him. “I thought you said they couldn’t take off on ya?”

“I released the telepathic hold on mine when we broke through the trees,” he admitted. “No sense in continuing to hold her to my will when she’s no longer needed.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me to _hold on tight, Rose, this one might bolt_.”

He winced “I might’ve thought to warn you about that, Rose. I’m sorry.”

She wriggled out of his hold and hopped awkwardly on the rocks before finding sure footing. “Not half as sorry as you will be if you pull that one on me again.” She considered expanding upon that threat, but her eyes captured the shimmering rainbow reflection of the sunlight bouncing off clear crystal rocks and any such notions fled her suddenly overwhelmed mind. She pushed her hand against his chest to move by him and gasped as she stood at the water’s edge.

“Oh my God,” she managed in a shaky voice as her hand flew to cover her mouth. “Doctor. This is…”

“Crystal Cascades,” he finished for her. “The composition of the mountain side of Mount Lung is comprised mainly of Lupolmahian Crystals. Weather and the waters that run along this gully have soften and smoothed the edge of the crystals over the centuries, but legend has it that before the Age of the Time Lords, when the crystals had the sharp edges from their creation, they would blind any traveller that ventured this way.” He thumbed at his nose, the allure of the place waning after having visited so many times throughout his youth. “Not so brilliant to look at now, I suppose.”

Rose disagreed. She looked upon the glassy edge of the mountain in a state of absolute and utter awe, unable to articulate any sound other than an almost garbled exhale.

“What was that, Rose?” The Doctor asked as he turned to face her and was brought to an abrupt halt. The mirrored and rainbow reflection of the twin suns peeking into the gully leapt off the rocks to form a halo around his companion. Hues of different colours danced along her eyes, and off the thin line of tears that were nestled there.

“Rassilon,” he breathed out in awe at the solemn beauty within her.

Rose was unable to take her eyes of the masterpiece before her, but she was able to turn her head just slightly toward him. “Doctor,” she managed weakly. “This. This is the most beau’iful thing I’ve ever seen. I … I can’t imagine how it must have been before now.” She sniffed deeply, unsure of just how emotion had crept into her as it had. She wanted to drop to her knees and beg any and all deities watching from above to make her worthy of beholding such magnificence. “God. It’s so amazin’. I. I do’t ever wanna leave. I wanna stay here forever and just … just _look_.”

“Yes,” he agreed, but not necessarily toward the waters. He took in her awe, and her reverence of his home, and felt the slightest shimmer of pride well up inside him. He turned back toward the water and looked at it with the fresh eyes that gazed upon it through this precious human. His eyes trailed the smoothed formations at the waters edge, and to the sharper edges that grew from within the mountain’s bottom edge. He took in the rainbows, and the reflections shared between the crystal and the waters.

He felt his breath hitch, and his eyes mist with appreciative tears. His hand instinctively reached for hers. “Rassilon, Rose,” he whimpered out on an extended breath and he wriggled his fingers within hers and held her hand tightly. “I forgot just how…” his words shifted to Gallifreyan. Words, Rose assumed, were words of reverence in his language. She took a step closer to his side and leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he breathed finally.

She looked up at him with a pinch of confusion in her eye. “For what?”

His smile warm warm. “Just. Thank you.”

“This place. Is it sacred?”

“In what way do you mean,” he queried curiously.

“I mean, are we allowed to swim here?”

His cheek crinkled into a smile. “Even if we weren’t, Rose. I’d still suggest we do just that.” He winked at her. “Like I said to you back at the TARDIS, There is a pool inside the cascades that has natural airflow. Much better than the hot tubs you have on Earth.”

Rose chuckled deep down inside her throat. She immediately pulled at the bow on her vest and let it fall gracelessly onto the ground at her feet.

The Doctor looked aghast. He took a look around them as though looking for someone hiding in the bushes. “What are you doing?”

Rose was already in a half crouch, with one foot lifted to undo her boots. She maintained that position, and her task at hand. “Getting my kit off, what do you think?” She blinked at the scandalised expression on his face. “You really didn’t think I’d get in there fully dressed did you?”

“We aren’t in the confines of the TARDIS,” he reminded her. “You can’t be parading around without … with … with nothing on!”

With one shoe removed, Rose straightened up and then slouched a petulant position with a roll in her eyes. “I’m keeping my knickers and bra on, Doctor, blimey. Both of which have more coverage than any bikini I might throw on at a beach – such are the undergarments the TARDIS provided me with at any rate. She’s a bit of a prude, our girl. Either that or she’s kitting me out in Gallifreyan undies and your entire society are prudes.”

“Yes,” he managed with a clearing sound in the back of his throat. “Ahh, yes. Quite right on that, Rose. Can’t quite be denied, that charge.” He rubbed at the back of his head. “I suppose it didn’t quite occur to me to remind you to bring swim trunks.”

Rose bent again to remove her other boot. She looked toward the Time Lord, who was still looking somewhat astounded at her. “Well?” she sang out. “Are you gonna get down to your pants and join me?” 

“Uhh.”

She kicked off her other boot, and grabbed the lower hem of her tunic. She spoke a muffled voice through fabric as she lifted it up over her head. “Coward.”

He gaped at her, and then twisted his head to one side and slammed his eyes shut when he noticed she was wearing only a bra and panties. “What did you just call me?”

“A coward,” she answered quite simply. Without waiting for any further instruction, argument, or advice at all from him on whether or not the water here was not going to melt her like acid, Rose quickly ran into the waters. She didn’t even bother to test it with her toe, she rushed straight in and dove under the waters. She shot up, and flicked her head backward, spraying an arc of sun-tinted crystal water … much like an Instagram model emerging from beach waters.

In a word: Stunning. To any man lucky enough to be standing on shore watching. Which he was. And now he couldn’t breathe.

Rose heard his choked cough from the edge and ran her hands over her hair as she turned to the shore, panicked by what horrible bit of _perhaps you should have listened to me before runni9ng in there_ comment he was about to give. She held her hair at her cheeks with worry to see him frozen solid in place, still fully dressed on the shore.

“Doctor?” she called worriedly. “Are you okay?”

Her worried voice broke him from his reverie. He let out a long snarling growl, and hurriedly undressed. There was nothing graceful about any movement he made to undress, but it was very rushed and purposeful, like he had only that one mission in life – to get undressed and into those waters.

She watched him curiously as he got down to just a pair of dark grey boxer briefs. His eyes had been locked on her and had darkened throughout his undressing manoeuvres. It was unnerving, and thrilling, and then terrifying as he strode with purpose into the water, and then dove deep to skim along the bottom. He resurfaced quickly, his entire body moving against hers until he looked over top of her, a curl in his lip and a growl in his tone.

“You,” he declared throatily as he snapped his arms around her waist and hauled her up tightly against him. “You are _magnificent_.”

Her gasp inhaled his words and for the briefest of moments she was captured by his possessive glare. Underneath the dusty blue, she could see the more clearer blue of her own Doctor waiting in line and trying to break free. Her body shifted into a carnal convulse of need and want so desperate, that she was willing to throw aside her entire set of rules and let him take her where they were. Then she saw the confused and timid brown of her current Doctor shimmer into line and she found freedom from the lock he had her in, and was able to pull away.

“Less than a day, and you’re already breakin’ the rules,” she accused him hotly as she slammed both hands into his chest and shoved him away. “I said no touchy feely, Doctor. No grabbin’ nothin’ or going in for a snog.” She slid out of his hold and kicked her legs to swim several strokes away from him. 

He shook himself free of his own stupor, and looked up with apology. “I’m very sorry, Rose. I don’t quite know what came across me just then.”

She pointed a finger dripping with water at him. “Yeah, well no lettin’ it happen again,” she warned. “One chance, that’s all I’m giving ya.”

He swam in the water to pull up beside her. “I appreciate you giving me that extra chance. I do wholly apologise for that, I’m really not sure what happened.”

She shrugged in the water. “Jus’ don’t let it happen again, okay?”

“Okay,” he vowed. He grappled under the water and took her hand. “Come on,” he said with a smile. “The pool’s this way.”

Rose let him tug her toward a small alcove at the base of the mountain. He let her toward a pool that looked like it had been dug into the crystals to for a deep bowl. Thee was a sharp jagged crystal high over head, that tore a waterfall in two to fall either side of the pool, two shimmering rainbow curtains crashing into the waters below.

“Wow,” she breathed out in awe as the Doctor pulled himself out of the water and held his hand down to help her up. Wet, and soggy, lithe and lean, his wet curls trying their absolute all to remain spiralled at his cheeks and not held down by water, and that damn roguish smile of his … this man was magnificent.

Why had she put rules in place?

She let him haul her up out of the water and then grinned a very cheeky grin. “I you get,” he hollered as he picked her up by the hips and then threw her into the pool. He hollered a whoop, and followed in behind her. He laughed when she emerged from the water spluttering and threatening his existence if he were ever to do something like that again. He blew her a kiss, and then swam to the edge of the pool. His arms spread either side of him to stretch out across the edge, and he leaned backward with a moan as the teeming bubbles from a hissing vent underneath him massaged his legs and lower back.

Rose swam over to the other side of the pool and analysed him somewhat as she adopted the same lounging pose as him. She shifted with the press of bubbles against her skin and exhaled a softer, more feminine moan of appreciation. She was willing to lose herself completely to it when she heard his voice gently command her attention. She opened her eyes to look across the small pool toward him.

“Yes, Doctor?”

His eyes were gentle upon her, but they were full of question. “Your story about New Earth,” he began. “Which sounded like quite the adventure.”

“It was,” she confirmed with a smile. “But it was also the start of … I dunno.”

“That was immediately following my regeneration?”

She looked up in thought. “You mean the first trip in TARDIS? Yes. But it was after we’d had another adventure. Up against the Sycorax.” She pursed her lips. “Which was more us than you, really. You slept through pretty much the whole thing…”

“Regeneration sickness,” he contributed. “Takes on many forms that, and a lot of it is either sleeping it off for a day or two, or forgetting everything – which is what happened to me this time around.” He blew out a breath. “Oh, I didn’t know who I was for at least two days. Fortunately, though, I managed to work it out before the world was destroyed by the Master.”

“The Master?” Rose queried eagerly. “Who’s that?”

The Doctor smiled weakly. “My oldest friend, and my biggest enemy,” he answered her sadly. 

“The frenemy,” Rose said with understanding. “Been there, had them. Nothin’ worse than having your best mate turn into your worst enemy.” She exhaled and looked over his shoulder toward the Tillogrippul waiting for them on the banks. “They know all your weak spots and how to hurt you more’n anyone else can.”

“You sound like you were hit pretty hard by that very specific turn of events, Rose,” he said softly.

Her eyes flicked toward him and her eyes held terror and remembrance. “Yeah,” she breathed out. “Yeah, I did.”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

She shook her head. She gulped. “About as much as you want to talk about yours, Doctor.”

“Which is absolutely not at all,” he confirmed. “But I would like to talk about me and you.” He caught her questioning brow as it dipped over one eye. “Specifically: future me and you.”

“Can I ask you a question first?”

He nodded. “Shoot.”

She shifted in her seat and leaned forward to pull her arms into the water. She watched her hands moving gently underneath. “You an me look to be having some deep and meanin’ful chats over the next little bit.” She lifted her eyes to his. “How is it – in your future – you don’t know who I am?”

He pushed off the wall and swan the short distance between them to sit beside her in the pool. He took one of her hands in his and swirled both underneath the waters. “Very likely because I made myself forget,” he said plainly.

She angled her head to look sideways at him. “You can do that?”

“Sometimes.” He paused and then smirked and amended that. “Quite a lot of times, actually, I do encounter people from my future timestreams. They try, they really do, not to reveal things that are to come, but it’s not a natural instinct for humans as it is for Time Lords.” He took her hand in both hands, keeping his eyes on her fingertips as he lightly massaged her palm. “I’m not allowed to know what happens in my future, Rose. And so I forget. I make myself forget so I don’t change what’s coming.”

“And if what’s coming might be bad?”

He lifted his eyes and smiled at her. “Doesn’t matter, does it. That person who’s come to me, who is in my life, is only there because of the path that I choose. If I skip past the bad just to save my own feelings, then that person who’s life has touched mine, may never end up in my path.” He smiled. “Like you.”

She frowned. “What makes you think that…”

He chuckled and looked back down. “I described you as my salvation, Rose. You saved me from something big. Something that I didn’t think I’d ever survive.” He held her hands tight within his. “I was destroyed when you came into my life, and you made me better. Whatever did that to me, Rose, I have to go through it. Otherwise I wouldn’t have met you – and that’s a worse sentence than suffering a little hardship.”

“But how’d you get that out of… I mean…” She was confused. “You said that he said I saved him, but you didn’t say he said all that.”

“I also said that it didn’t translate well at all,” he reminded her. “There was a lot more said by him than I’ve shared with you. And I really need to analyse it all much more before I can comprehend just how much he loves you.”

“Loved,” she corrected.

“Loves,” he argued firmly. “I don’t believe you for a second that he’s lost any of that.”

“But…”

“Don’t argue,” he admonished her firmly. “I know me. I do. I also know I can be a bit of an insecure git despite what confidence I project to everyone.” He looked up and slouched again in the water beside her. “Perhaps something about me in the future makes me think that I’m not worthy anymore.”

“Or he thinks I’m not…”

He shook his head. “That I doubt very much. I’d love to corner myself and ask just what my problem is – if you’d let me do it, of course.” His brows lifted with eager question.

She shook her head and swam away from him. “No, Doctor. Geez, it’d be like sending dad into the inconsiderate boyfriend to punch him in the face.”

He frowned tightly. “Well. I don’t know that I’d do _that_.”

She smirked. “ _He_ would,” she said with amusement. “My _first_ Doctor, I mean.”

His lips stretched into a smile. “Oh. Well that does sound interesting….”

“No,” Rose moaned, reading his intent. “You can’t send him in either.”

He slouched against the rocks. “Well, you really are not fun at all, are you?”

“Oh,” she purred in a tease. “Oh I _can_ be, Doctor. I can be very _fun_ …” She stood up in front of him, all see through white bra and panties, with wet skin quivering in the cool breeze of the gully. “You wanna see just how fun I can be?”

The sultry way in which she said that to him made his hearts beat that little bit quicker inside his chest. He cleared his throat and squeaked out a very undignified sound. “Uh. Rose?”

She laughed and spun away from him, launching herself through the air and over the edge of their little pool. She splashed deeply into the water below, emerging seconds later with a whoop in her chest as she smoothed her hair back. “Come on, Doctor. Let’s have some fun!”

He grinned cheekily. There were some oddities about this place, and some ghost stories he could tell that would make her shiver enough to stay cold even in the most glaring heat. Yeah, it was time for some fun. 

He stood up to leap over the edge, ready to let out a jovial yell and crash into the water beside her. His breath drew in hard, however, and his stomach contracted violently as a familiar and uncomfortable wave of energy crashed through him. He stumbled backward, overwhelmed by its power this time around.

A fixed point was on fast approach, and this wasn’t one to be tampered with. It crashed into him with the force of a freight train with a request that things be allowed to progress as time demanded it did.

Whatever it was, the fate of the entire universe was at stake … and somehow, the woman playing in the water below was the key to it all.


	6. Fixed Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Rose take a day apart from each other... and the Doctor gets a visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay ... this went way longer than I had anticipated. I had fully intended on writing the next bit (and a bit I'm really looking forward to getting to after that....) but this one ran away from me.
> 
> It was time to move along a wee bit and actually put a little plot of sorts in... and hopefully patch up a couple of potential holes... which I'm good at digging...
> 
> Thank you again for your support and kind words!! I hope you enjoy one of my favourite characters to write ... :)

The Doctor blew out a breath through sun-parched lips as he flicked a pebble across the still waters of the river. Oh, it wasn’t as perfectly still at the deeper sections of the water would have one believe. There was still a gentle lapping of water against the toes of his boots – quite possibly small ripples from the seventeen other pebbles he’d thrown over the last hour.

Soft Gallifreyan passed through his lips as he looked across the water. “Ripples, Rose,” he repeated gently in English. “That’s how we refer to ripples, be it of time, or in water, we use the same phrasing.” He lowered his head and smiled at the floor.

There was no feminine echo of his words as there would normally be. This time, he lectured alone. For the first time in three excursion-filled weeks, he was actually alone…

…and it wasn’t nearly as blissful as he had thought it would be. It was – in fact – exceedingly lonely out here by himself. 

Three weeks they’d been together now. Three very fast weeks. Three weeks that he had originally planned to last only as long as about as many days. Just enough time for her to come toward her senses and head back into his future to settle things with his elder self. That wasn’t to be, however, and he was finding himself becoming increasingly reluctant to send her back anywhere at all.

No. Turned out that he liked her a little more than he should; that he company was something he actually looked forward to every morning when she woke up. 

Back on day one – as part of their bargaining she had said to him: “ _No bursting into my room without knocking, sitting on the other side of my bathroom door like a cat waiting for me to be done, or whining when I’m trying to sleep because you want me to go and do something with you_.”

He’d internally scoffed with disgust at that little list of dislikes. What part of him would feel in any way possessed to behave in such a manner? He’d never been that way in all of his lives previous to now, and he certainly never anticipated wanting human companionship so much that he’d even begin to behave in such a needy and undignified manner in the future.

Oh, how wrong he’d been about that?

It look less than 48 hours for him to find himself almost desperate to be in her presence. Quite pathetic, really. But she was certainly something else, and he had become very attached very quickly. It was clear to him that these three weeks could easily span into as many years without either of them noticing – such was their easy comradery.

Too quickly they’d fallen into step together. Her hunger for learning and her wide-eyed astonishment toward everything around them was simply intoxicating. Her awe and excitement toward his home world offered him a new appreciation of it. To look upon the forested landscape from the cliffs of Mount. Lung through her eyes … it was simply breathtaking.

The Time Lords and the people within the uptight society they had created were all insufferable gits, but it didn’t mean that the planet herself needed to be viewed through that same lens. Gallifrey was a truly majestic world, and he’d forgotten that. It took the wonder of a Human to remind him that he loved his home just as much as he said he hated it. Oh, sure, if he had to before now, the Doctor would have defended his home and all that it stood for. Seeing it through the eyes of the one who would become a future companion … oh, now he’d fight for it. He’d die, regenerate, and die again to protect Gallifrey.

Rose. Well. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. She was …. She was something different … he had to remark on that. On the surface, Rose Tyler really did appear to be much like the other human companions that he’d taken onboard his TARDIS. Brilliant, yes. Fearless, yes. Fierce and intelligent, absolutely. Getting to know her these past handful of weeks on a mountainside near Arcadia, he’d seen something much more to her harboured on the inside. This young woman was special in ways he couldn’t translate in a language outside of his own.

To be honest, he was having some difficulty in translating to her many of the phrases she was asking him to teach her. She had insisted, though. Not at all content to just learn how to speak his language, Rose Tyler had wanted to _understand_ it as well. And thus begun the arduous task of trying to break down the temporal, lyrical, and hard to master language that belonged only to his people. And it wasn’t fast, nor easy, for either of them. The first week and a half of their partnership was spent holed up in the library with the TARDIS acting as a chalkboard and study room, each trying to understand the other: Him, trying to educate her on how and when to speak, her teaching him just _why_ it was important that she wanted to learn at all.

“ _I want to do it for you, Doctor. I might’n be real clever enough to get all conversational, but at least let me be able to say something to you that will actually mean something_.”

That, he didn’t quite understand. Anything that any of his companions said _always_ meant something to him. _Always_.

It was too bad that his future self had forgotten how important it was to enforce his utter devotion to all who stepped aboard his TARDIS. He’d learned after Ace – wonderful, brilliant Ace – not to have his companions believe he didn’t care, or that he took them for granted.

This should have been especially true for Rose. She was different, so different, to the other companions. She was one who had saved his future, and in turn his future had fallen in love with her. One face of him loved her with open reverence. The next seemed to forget she existed – or made her think he did at any rate.

…And that was beyond unacceptable. It was reprehensible.

Still. He yearning to learn and more importantly _understand_ his language was an important step on her way to recovering her faith in him. And while their daily banter annoyingly included her constant interruptions to point at things and say: “ _What’s_ that _in your language_ ,” he couldn’t hold her to fault. Instead he found himself creating more tutorials for her in his mind. Each moment they were apart because of her human needs of sleep, showering, and digestational evacuations, he formed new words and phrases – phrases that he knew his future would appreciate hearing…

…except the one he needed most: Her answer to his proposal. He hadn’t yet been brave enough to teach her that one … and she certainly wasn’t yet ready to try.

He had prepared a lesson today of basic conversational phrases. Nothing too advanced, of course, just the typical touristy-type phrases: I need to find a loo. My name is. How are you. Where do I find the nearest train station… He’d hoped that she’d get a good laugh out of it when he presented the plan. They’d laugh, they’d try, and then they’d head off down to the Magnolia orchard to pick some fruit and talk about how much he loved to run around there as a young loomling escaping the ardours of study. Perhaps she would move onto the story of how his elder self had abandoned her on a Space Station 5,000 years into her future. She’d been reluctant to go into too much detail other than jealously spitting out the words: Reinette, Poisson, and _Dancing_.

Of course that plan fell out of the boat almost immediately after she’d emerged from the bathroom. Oh, but she was in a horribly foul mood. Even the special English Breakfast tea that the TARDIS had mixed for her didn’t do the trick. Rose had stalked from the kitchen to the medical bay (he’d followed behind trying to talk to her), grabbed a bottle of pain pills from a cabinet, glared accusingly at him, and then stalked back down to her room.

He was left alone in the corridor with wide eyes of utter confusion.

“I’ll just head out on my own then,” he’d offered, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb. “I’ll, ehm, be back shortly.”

He heard a muffled reply that be supposed was “Goodbye, Doctor”, but he couldn’t be completely sure of that. She might have told him to bugger off.

And with that, he’d walked out and off to destination unknown…

Okay, not alone. He had taken a trip up to a council outpost just west of the forest and had a bit of a scavenge for information and insight, and found nothing. He still didn’t quite know just why it was that Rose seemed to be the catalyst for an oncoming fixed point… More than that, he couldn’t even determine exactly when this fixed point was set to occur. It just seemed that any time he felt ready to make a determination about her future with him, he was hit with an invisible wall of warning not to go there. The only thing he could deduce was that for now, and for the immediate future, Rose had to stay on Gallifrey. Even the very thought of suggesting otherwise made him sick to the stomach…

…hmmmm. Was he falling in love, or was this just a fixed point warning?

Whatever it was, he was through trying to fight it. He wanted her to stay, and so did the universe. He was good with that.

He flicked off another stone and counted the skips in Gallifreyan. A small scuffle at his feet and he looked down to a tiny little creature foraging beside his boot. He spoke in Gallifreyan, and then switched to English. “That’s a cobblemouse, Rose. Much like your field mice back on Earth, but far less dedicated on procreation. In my language, we call it…” he spoke again in his native tongue.

“Speaking to yourself is a sign of madness, Thete,” a deep, amused, and very familiar voice purred in from behind him.

The Doctor shook his head, but didn’t look back. “Speaking with an expert, actually.” He turned to face his intruder and tipped his head to one side in polite greeting. “Hello Brax.”

Irving Braxiatel replied with a similar nod of greeting. “Thete.”

The Doctor wiped hi shands against each other and took himself out from underneath the shade of a Cadonwood tree and away from the water’s edge. “What brings you around these parts? You’re not exactly the type to go hiking in the forest.”

Brax slid his hand into a pocket to retrieve a handkerchief and used it to flick an insect off his shoulder. “I heard a rumour that you were skulking around the mountain. Figured I’d come up to say hello seeing as you haven’t the consideration to visit me yourself.”

The Doctor shrugged. “I haven’t dropped by to see you during any of my visits to Gallifrey over the past few centuries, Brax. You’ve not seen fit to complain about it to this point.”

“Quite possibly because I can’t find you to make any such complaint,” he growled in return. “By the time word is received, you’ve already dematerialised and headed back off on your travels.”

“I have a phone.”

“With a delisted number,” Brax shot back with a roll in his eyes.

The Doctor thumbed his nose and looked off to the side. “Yes. Well. With council acting like relentless telemarketers demanding that I do this, and then do that, all in the name of mother Gallifrey, I felt it would be prudent to change it and keep it private.”

Brax let up a laugh of total agreement. “If it were truly that easy to do, Thete, we’d all do it.” He put a hand on the Doctor’s shoulder. “It is good to see you again. Which incarnation am I blessed with this time? Five, six?”

The Doctor brushed Brax’s hand off his shoulder and levered a suspicious glare toward his brother. “Oh drop the friendly pretense, Brother. What are you _really_ here for?”

“You judge me that easily?”

“Out with it,” he growled.

Braxiatel stood in a tall and proud manner that professed his innocence t the charge, but he was unable to maintain this façade for too long under his brother’s glare. He slipped into a very very light slouch with both hands in his trouser pockets. “I want to meet her,” he said finally.

The Doctor’s eyes narrowed. “Meet who?”

“Your current companion,” Braxiatel answered quickly. “There has been quite some buzz around the Capitol about her – at least quite recently the murmurs have centred around her.”

The Doctor wasn’t too surprised to hear that. “You feel it too,” he remarked quietly. “The oncoming fixed point.”

Braxiatel nodded. “It’s been coming for some time,” he confirmed. “Yet no one on council can determine just when it’s set to occur, or what it involves. Time is twisting and turning as though in flux, but then snapping and growling and pulling it all back in line.” He looked worried. “It’s like it’s a moment so fragile that a simple slip to one side it could rip apart reality completely.”

The Doctor nodded in agreement as he walked back under the tree. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the trunk. “What do you know about it; this fixed point?”

Brax’s eyes lifted high in contemplation of the quandary. His breath inhaled deep and held for a moment before expelling quickly around his words. “That’s the thing, Thete. We don’t know _anything_ about it.” He began to pace slowly. “Several months ago, we started to feel time’s tremors over in Arcadia. They weren’t such that anyone was particularly concerned. We put it down to the birth of the new solar system in the Hydreoux system.”

“Ahhh,” the Doctor sang out knowingly. “Yes, the one in the Venroulix spiral. I’ve been monitoring that one, could well sustain life on several of the young planets.”

“Given time,” Brax agreed. “Yes. Which is why we felt that time’s concern was directed toward this new star and her planets.” He huffed out a breath. “And then the tremors kept coming. Sometimes it would affect only a handful of Time Lords, other times we’d feel it as a whole.”

“That must make interesting viewing in Council chambers watching the old and the arrogant fall to their knees all at once at Time’s command,” the Doctor injected with a chuckle.

Braxiatel shook his head. “Not everyone feels it to the same degree, Thete. Not since the Other have we had a Time Lord so sensitive to Time’s call. You are far more sensitive to it than even out most elder and experienced Time Lords. There are very few Time Lords that even have a half of your sensitivity – that aren’t among the matricians, of course.” He sniffed, thumbed his nose, and continued. “Which is one of the reasons that we monitor your movements as best we can. Between you and your TARDIS, we can track and plot each fixed point and its integrity. You’ve pulled some stupid stunts to change flux points, Brother, but you’re not as foolish as to tamper with fixed one.”

The Doctor grinned. “So what you’re saying is that I’m far better at interpreting these points than all of you lot lording around council.”

“Tell anyone and I’d vehemently deny it,” he shot back with a smirk. The smile faltered quickly. “It’s not exactly your interpretive skills – as you do tend to work it out very late in the game – as it is that fixed points do happen to culminate around you and your behaviours – and more importantly, around your companions.”

The Doctor’s eyes flared briefly, but he couldn’t argue it.

“Which is why,” Braxiatel continued. “when I heard that you’d snuck back to the planet with a companion in tow, I figured that whatever’s coming is very likely being held in your hands.” He pointed to a path leading out of the forest. “And is why I want to meet your companion – to make damn sure that the fate of reality is in very safe hands.”

The Doctor lifted his and held them up with a wiggle in his fingers. “Very safe hands.”

“I’m not jesting, Thete,” Braxiatel growled. “We’ve never had a point so powerful that it’s affected society as a whole. This has stymied council for months now, and has everyone worried.” He softened his tone to convey his concern. “Do you now anything about it?”

The Doctor shook his head slowly. “I have no idea at all. I was hoping you might have brought me answers.” He pulled up off the tree truck and started to walk toward the path. “Follow me,” he said on a low tone. “We can talk on the way to my TARDIS.”

“How is the old girl?” Brax asked. “Ready for an upgrade at the drydocks?”

“If I send her there, she’d never come back to me,” the Doctor groused. “She’d be scrapped the moment she materialised.”

“Quite likely scenario,” he agreed. “She’s one of only two Type 40’s still operational.”

“She’s very good by the way,” The Doctor continued. “She seems to have grown quite the fondness toward Rose.”

“Your companion?”

He nodded and thrust his hands deeply into his pockets. “A future companion, actually.”

The Doctor looked toward his brother. “You can see it, can’t you?”

“Your future in flux, a proposal as yet unrequited, and a Lord lost?” He nodded. “It’s murky at best, Thete. Your future – and hers – are very much still in flux positioning, and rapidly changing. There still are so many pathways, littered and twisted about that it’s near impossible to even determine whose path is whose.” He exhaled. “And then, right in the centre of it, is a void of unimaginable darkness.”

“Doom and gloom, thy name is Braxiatel,” the Doctor droned.

“Darkness only means that which can’t yet be seen,” Brax offered with a shrug. “I’m not going to comment on just what that darkness might be.”

“The fixed point,” The Doctor offered dryly. 

Braxiatel nodded. “I figured as much.” He stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Can you see anything else, Thete?”

His exhale was shaky and he couldn’t look at his brother when he answered. Instead he looked off into the distance and licked his lips. “Only that Rose is the key to it, and Gallifrey’s the centre of it.” He shook his head and started walking again. 

Braxiatel quickly picked up pace to walk with him. “Then that’s why you’re keeping her here in Gallifrey?”

The Doctor slid his eyes toward his brother. “No. It’s not. My reasons for having Rose here are for far more – personal – reasons.” He pursed his lips. “It just happens to be coincidental that she needs to be here at this place and time.”

Braxtiatel gave a firm nod of his head. “Good. Then I will notify council that you and your companion are to be left in peace and with respect until such time as we can confirm the passing of the fixed point.”

The Doctor barked out a laugh. “And then what, you’ll send an army to get rid of us?” He didn’t wait for his brother to answer what was a very rhetorical question. “As for my ability to keep her here, Brax. I can’t guarantee that I can keep her here for any significant amount of time. She has a future me that she needs to return to…”

Once again Braxiatel stopped him with a hand curled around his arm. “What did you just say? A _future_ you?” At the Doctor’s tired look, his expression fell. “Oh, Thete. What have you gotten yourself into?”

“It’s a long story,” he moaned.

“And we have a long walk,” Brax shot back sharply. “Plenty of time for you to explain.”

“Why would I need to?”

“Because we’re in a bit of a situation here, and I need to know that you have what it takes to be able to keep the timelines stable enough to survive what’s coming.”

The Doctor nodded and tipped his head to one side in a gesture for them to keep walking. “Rose is the intended bond mate for my future self. There was an incident which saw her lose her faith in my affections for her and run.” He swallowed thickly. “She ended up on my TARDIS instead of theirs, and my ship decided to bring us here, to Gallifrey. I can only assume that she knows what’s on approach and kidnapped that precious girl to keep her at my side.” He lowered his head. “Otherwise I would have lost her in my future – whatever future it may be.”

Braxiatel slapped his forehead with his palm and let it slide thickly down his face. “Which means we have your future running after her. Well this is just great. I know how you are when you’re faced with another one of you. If he makes it here, then your inability to get along with yourself means that this will all will go to hell.”

The Doctor shook his head. “Timelocked,” he reminded his brother. “My future cannot return to this time in Gallifrey – at least not while I’m here at any rate.”

Braxiatel threw his head back and bellowed out a laugh. “This is _you_ we’re talking about, Thete. Never mind that we’re dealing with a desperate Gallifreyan looking for his mate, we’re also dealing with _you_. You’ve never been one to be able to be constrained by any rule or lock.” He blew out a breath of worry. “I hate to think of what’s to come.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“No it won’t,” he barked sharply. He clutched at the Doctor’s arm. “Not unless you can promise me that your future proposal has not yet been reciprocated. If you tell me that she’s accepted your bond, then there is no force in this universe that will be able to stop you.” He exhaled sharply. “You’re a tenacious and sneaky little bastard. I wouldn’t put it past you to already be here.”

“She’s human,” the Doctor answered simply.

“Like I would have assumed otherwise,” Braxiatel snorted in reply. “You’ve always had an infinity for them – lower class creatures that they are.”

“Our mother was human, Brraxiatel. Watch your words.”

“Human,” Brax agreed. “But with the heart of a Time Lady. She was special, and more worthy than any of the creatures lolling their inferior heads around on that insignificant planet.”

The Doctor shook his head with disgust at his brother’s open speciesism toward any not born in Gallifrey’s embrace. He let out a breath and continued walking. “She doesn’t speak Gallifreyan, and therefore is currently unable to respond to the proposal.”

“Which makes your future that much more dangerous, Thete.”

“I know.” He swallowed. “But I have faith in Rose and her concerns. Something has happened to my future that makes me believe myself unworthy of her. That said, I don’t imagine I’ll be following too closely behind. I’m confident we have me locked in time’s stasis, where our decisions here will determine my future’s next steps.”

“Meaning?”

“I’m either taking her home to London, or back to Crandinia to my future self.” The thrust his hands deeply into his trouser pockets. “TARDIS already has both temporal coordinates set into her nav system – and both fall almost immediately after we left, and long before he’ll have given up his search for her on that planet.” He rolled his neck and shoulder. “I’m trapped in time until Rose and I make a decision here and now about how to proceed.”

“Thank Rassilon for that,” Braxiatel breathed. “I said it before, and I’ll say it again: You are a sneaky little bastard. Not too many would take the precautions you have.” He moved to fall in step with the Doctor. “It is your plan, then, to keep Rose here? For as long as it takes for this crisis to pass?”

He shrugged. “The fixed point was never a consideration, and so no. I had only intended to keep her with me for as long as she needed to calm herself and find her faith that I worship the ground that she walks on.”

“You need to plan for much more time than that, Thete.”

It was the Doctor’s turn to laugh. “And how do you propose I do that, Brax? There are only a limited amount of adventures that I can engage with her in here on Gallifrey – and quite frankly, we’ve begun to exhaust them.” He pursed his lips. “She’s also beginning to tire of me, I think.”

“What makes you draw that conclusion?”

He huffed. “She basically kicked me out of my own TARDIS today. Couldn’t stand to be near me.”

“I know the feeling,” Braxiatel sighed. 

“So with your agreement that it is a highly probably situation that exists right now, I can expect that her desire to leave will probably be sooner rather than later, and likely not before this fixed point has prepared the Reapers…”

Braxiatel went quiet for a moment. His lips were pressed together into a think line of thought. He blinked once, and then twice, and cleared his throat in a rather awkward manner. He looked dead ahead, and not toward his brother. “Tell me, Thete. Have you and Rose engaged in what it is that human pairings like to engage in to keep each other entertained and interested in each others company?”

The Doctor slid his eyes toward his brother, who was actually reddening. “Engaged in what, exactly?” one brow fell over his eye, the other lifted high on his forehead. “We’ve engaged in many very entertaining endeavours over this past three weeks.”

“Any that may involve the two of you…” Braxiatel couldn’t look toward his brother, but he gestured toward the Doctor’s groin with a circle of his finger. “That would involve the two of you being naked?”

Surprisingly the Doctor wasn’t at all aghast by the question. Instead he found Braxiatel’s discomfort amusing. “I’m not sure I follow you,” he managed through a smirk.

Not that it should have been more possible, but Braxiatel reddened further. “Oh, you know what I’m talking about. The recreational march toward pleasure that Humans seem to want to function on – distasteful act though it may be – Mating.”

The Doctor chuckled, but didn’t allow the discomforting line of conversation to continue in that specific direction. “In my future, Rose and I have most definitely engaged in the art of mating. Perfected it, too, if I’m not mistaken.” His chuckle died off. “As for my present. No. We have not.”

Bratiatel finally looked toward his brother, his colour slowly fading back to normal. “Then perhaps you should initiate and engage in those behaviours as your way of keeping her here. Mate, Marry, plan to loom or sire children. Do what it takes.” He nodded as though happy with the decision made for his brother. “I can have it arranged that you be set up with your own house – separate from Lungbarrow – and that you are both afforded all the necessities to be happy here.”

The Doctor stopped. He looked at his brother with an expression of absolute disgust. “Are you suggesting that I manipulate her in such an abhorrent manner just so you can sleep at night knowing the fixed point is intact.”

“That’s precisely what I’m suggesting,” Braxiatel admitted freely. “Your hearts beat for her, and her for you…”

“In my future,” the Doctor bellowed.

“Oh,” he answered with a wave of his hand. “Future, past, present, it’s all the same. You’re stepping it up here on Gallifrey to ensure that your future with her remains safe and intact.” He smiled. “With the added benefit of saving reality by keeping her here on Galifrey.”

“You know,” the Doctor barked. “It would be far easier for you to simply order the grounding of my TARDIS to prevent either of us leaving.”

Braxiatel tipped his finger side to side. “Tenacious. Sneaky.” He glared at him. “You can bypass any grounding protocols that any of us can put in place, so that isn’t even an option” He threw up his hands. “Any other Time Lord … Anyone but you. Why did it have to be you?”

The Doctor shook his head. “No. I won’t do it. I won’t manipulate her like that – not even with reality at stake. It’s not fair on her.”

Once again Braxiatel stopped the Doctor’s forward march by grabbing at his arm. He held him to a stop and forced him to face him. He looked hard into his brother’s eyes, switching focus from one and to another, and then stepped back, his eyes wide. “By Rassilon’s Ghost, Thete. You’ve actually fallen for her in this very timeline, haven’t you?” He held his arms firm as the Doctor tired to pull away. “Your hearts truly are in her hands.”

The Doctor shook his head. “Brax, please.”

“Oh, this is far more dangerous than I could have imagined,” Braxiatel breathed out worriedly. “You’re entranced already, and so her desire will be your command.”

The Doctor slowly nodded and looked toward his brother with a helpless expression. “I can’t manipulate her like you want me to, Brax. I can’t do that because I’m beginning to believe that it’s something I actually want in my future.” He tilted his head to one side in pleading. “And I can’t attain that by lying to her and then trust what we have is real.” His voice lowered to a soft sound. “If it’s going to happen in my time stream, then it has to happen naturally, with her falling for me, now, as I am.”

“I see.”

“And right now, Brax, with how she feels about my future. How much I hurt her and make her feel second-best.” He shook his head. “A human heart is fragile. Hers is slowly mending. I push, and she leaves. I’ll have no choice but to let her go.”

“But it takes time,” Braxiatel agreed with a nod. His own urgency fled, and the affection of a brother finally rose to the forefront. “Then let it move as it should.”

“I have no choice,” the Doctor said with a shrug as he started walking once more. “When we bargained for her to stay with me, one of the rules … actually all of them … were specifically geared toward one item: Hands off.”

Braxiatel had to chuckle. “Smart girl.”

“She’s actually quite brilliant,” he corrected proudly. “Smart doesn’t even cut it.”

“Oh, he’s gone,” Braxiatel sighed. “The renegade bachelor, taken by a mere human girl.” He let his smile fall and nodded to the distance, to where the TARDIS stood in the clearing. “I’ll make assurances to council that all is well, and for them to leave you be. In the meantime, I would like to meet the woman who will become my sister.”

“Be nice,” the Doctor asked. “No using your inferior species talk of how humans are low-class, undignified, and unworthy of a Time Lord’s affection…”

Music from the TARDIS had the Doctor stop in his tracks, with Braxiatel pulling up beside him. In front of the TARDIS, Rose Tyler danced along to the music. Wearing a dusty pair of very short cut-off jeans, a flannel shirt tied just underneath her bosom, and her mid-drift on display, She sang along with the song at the very top of her lungs using a small spade as a microphone. Gardening gloves, and a torn rag hair tie holding back wild blond locks finished the ensemble.

…All she needed was a beer in her hand and a cigarette hanging from her mouth, and Rose Tyler would have looked like the quintessential 50’s _trailer trash_ stereotype.

The Doctor’s eyes blew wide and his mouth gaped at her. Braxiatel merely chuckled. He leaned his mouth toward the ear of his brother and breaked out a very husky, and very much amused: “Ooooh. Thete…”


	7. A Howling Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose, met Brax. Brax, Rose...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to end on a cliff (HAHAHAHA... see what I did there .. you'll get it later).. But this kind've got away from me a bit.
> 
> I actually like this chapter, so I hope you will as well... 
> 
> Thank you all so much for your wonderful, inspiring comments!!! Oh, I love hearing from you and knowing that I have people willing to follow me on this journey.

~~oooOOOooo~~

The Doctor swatted at his brother and let out an annoyed groan at his mirth toward Rose and her current state of attire … and dancing. He moaned out his brother’s name in a long suffering manner.

Braxiatel didn’t take offence to the swat against his shoulder. He was still highly amused as he stood straight up at his side. “Sometimes you make it _too_ easy…”

The Doctor levered him a glare of warning as he strode forward. He lifted a finger. “Be nice.”

Braxiatel grinned widely and took hold of his lapels to exude a distinguished façade. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman. I won’t even say _yee-haa y’all_.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes and shook his head. “There are so many things wrong with that I don’t even know where to begin.” He offered him a side-long glance. “I swear to Rassilon, Brax, if you even think of saying either of those words, I’ll put you into regeneration.”

Braxiatel smirked. “You’re a pacifist, Thete. Putting me into regeneration without violence might take some work.”

The Doctor turned to face his brother and continued onward walking backward. He flicked his finger side to side. “Tenacious and sneaky, remember. Don’t think I haven’t already got several rather effective and non-violent plans already in mind.” He pivoted on his foot to continue walking forward. “Seven centuries of planning…”

He lifted his eyes to the sky. “I can’t even laugh that one off as jest,” he said with a sigh. He considered making another comment, but paused when the back of the Doctor’s hand hit lightly at his chest to stop him. He followed his brother’s gaze and lifted a brow to watch his little human dancing inside the flashing lights of an obviously excited TARDIS to music blaring through the front doors.

“Give me a minute,” the Doctor requested with amusement in his tone. “I should warn her that we have a guest, just in case she wants to find a little bit of dignity before introductions.”

“Perhaps to her species this is _dignified_ ,” Brax offered with amusement.

“No. It’s really not,” the Doctor answered with a shrug. “Adorable, maybe, but not dignified.”

“Subjective,” Braxiatel replied with a shrug.

The Doctor flicked up a finger and walked toward the clearing in front of the TARDIS. “A minute, Brax.”

“Gallifreyan, or Earth minute?” His eyes widened at the Doctor’s glare. “It’s a very important distinction to make.”

The Doctor shook his head and strode carefully into the clearing. Still on guard and wondering if Rose was still mad at him for whatever past-misdeed he had inadvertently done during the evening, his movements were slow and wary.

She was adorable like this. He had to admit. The music was quite delightful and reminded him of songs long past in Earth’s History – and a night where he donned rose-coloured rounded glasses and wore his cravat around his head, smoking pot with a husky-voiced fellow wearing a straw cowboy hat and a black eye patch and his musical group of friends.

…Oh, that was a night…

Rose’s lyrical voice sang across the distance. “Sharing the night together, woah, oh yeah, sharing the night together…”

The Doctor knew the song well enough – he had a hand in writing part of it that night around a campfire – and hooked his arm around her waist to join in on the next line.

“We can bring in the morning girl if you want to go that far. And if tomorrow finds us right here, the way are, would you mind sharing the night together.”

Rose pealed with delight and laughter as she turned toward him and threw her arms around his waist. “I never knew you were a Dr. Hook fan, Doctor.”

“My name’s in there, Rose, how can’t I be?” He replied with a grin. He looked up to the open TARDIS doors. “I think that’s enough for now, dear. Thank you.”

The music shut off and he looked down at the adorable woman giggling in his arms. “Did you have a productive day without me?”

She pouted a little. “I’m surprised you left.”

“You made your feelings on my presence rather effectively known,” he offered with a shrug. “And who am I to deny you your wish?”

Her expression fell completely and she moved in closer to hug him tightly. “I’m so sorry I was mean to you, Doctor,” she said sincerely as she held him tight. She lifted her head to settle her chin on his chest and gifted him with her most innocent and apologetic wide-eyed expression. “When I woke up this mornin’ and realised I was in a code red situation…”

“And what might a code red situation entail?” Braxiatel asked smoothly.

Rose peeped out in alarm and buried herself in the Doctor’s chest. She looked through the gap between his arm and his chest at the rather finely dressed man behind him. She felt the rumble of a moan inside the Doctor’s chest.

“Brax, just what part of _give me a minute_ did you not understand?”

He shrugged. “The lack of distinction between an Earth and a Gallifreyan minute,” he shot back through a one-sided smile. “I did seek clarification on that matter, of which you neglected to elucidate. As we are on Gallifrey, I opted for the latter. Foolish, I might admit, given your penchant for all things Earthly.” He held out a hand toward Rose. “Good evening, my dear. I’m Irving Braxiatel. My hope that it’s a pleasure for us to meet.”

Rose’s eyes were wide. She looked at the hand waiting for her to shake it, and then looked up at the Doctor with question in her eyes. He nodded. “It’s okay,” he assured her as he drew her to his side. “Rose, please allow me to introduce you to…” He sounded off a sixteen syllable Gallifreyan word with a smirk on his face. “…otherwise known as Brax, my brother.”

“Oh very mature,” Brax ground out with a roll in his eyes.

Rose gasped. She looked at the man in front of her and then looked up at the Doctor. “You. You have a _brother_?”

He swallowed a gulp. His voice lifted an octave higher than usual. “Of course I do. Surely I’ve mentioned him to you.”

She shook her head and pretended to think on it a second. “Nope. No. You didn’t mention him.”

Braxiatel chuckled. “I wouldn’t be too surprised by that if I were you. I prefer not to acknowledge the fact I have a brother either.” He held out his hand again. “And now, allow me to introduce myself to you again. Irving Braxiatel. Perpetually embarrassed brother of this timeless degenerate.”

Rose nodded quickly and moved to shake his hand in greeting. Realising that she was still wearing dirty gardening gloves, she apologised and quickly flicked them off her hands. She went to wipe them on her shirt and realised that she had it tied up underneath her boobs. With her face reddening by the second, she whimpered and then apologised as she quickly untied the knot, let her shirt fall properly down and over the length of her shorts, and wiped her hands.

“I’m so sorry,” she breathed out with a wince. She took his hand for a shake of greeting. “I’m Rose. Rose Tyler.” She pointed to herself and then moved to take the rag from her hair and fix the flyaway mess into a bun on top of her head. “I must look a fright to you right now. I was just doing a spot of gardening, and it’s really hot out here.”

“Oh nonsense,” Braxiatel shot back with cheer. “Why dear you look absolutely, oh, how did Thete put it? Adorable. You look positively adorable.” He looked toward the Doctor and gave him a wide grin. “See? Nice. I’m being very nice.”

The Doctor palmed his face and let out a groan. Rose was amused. “And usually you aren’t so much so?”

Braxiatel shrugged. “No. Not too often. Part of my position in society I suppose.”

“Lucky me, then,” Rose said happily. She looked toward the TARDIS. “Uh, can I get you a drink or somethin’. I saw some lemonade in the fridge earlier this afternoon, and…”

“Drinks aren’t necessary,” the Doctor cut in quickly. “Brax won’t be staying for too long. Will you _brother_.”

Braxiatel smiled a cheeky grin toward his brother. “Actually, Thete. I was thinking that the three of us should take supper together. I had my assistant book us a table at a delightful new restaurant near the capitol.”

The Doctor and Rose simultaneously bleated their own reactions to Braxiatel’s invitation:

“Hold on a minute. Your name is _Thete_?.”

“We already had plans for tonight, Brax. Perhaps another time?”

Braxiatel looked between the two of them, but said nothing. Rose however, took a step back from the Doctor. There was a look of surprise on her face. “Your name is _Thete_?”

“Short for Theta Sigma,” he answered with a shrug. “And no. It’s not my true name.”

Braxiatel offered up another option. “Actually his given name is…” he rattled off a long and multisyllable word in Gallifreyan.

The Doctor moaned. “Brax, please.” He looked toward Rose, whose expression was one of disbelief. “Theta Sigma is the name I chose to use at the Academy. As you heard from my brother’s recital, my true name is somewhat long and difficult to pronounce, so – as most of us do – I found an alternative moniker that is much easier to wrap your tongue around.”

Braxiatel smirked. “And afterward he settled on _Doctor_ , mainly as a dig toward old Quences who was utterly mortified that Thete here wanted to take on said occupation instead of accepting post on council.” He chuckled. “Right up to the end the old man hated you for that little piece of defiance on your part.”

“Disowned me completely,” the Doctor said with a sigh. 

“What’s wrong with bein’ a doctor?” Rose asked curiously.

“What’s wrong, indeed,” the Doctor agreed with her. He then looked back to his brother. “Thanks for the invitation, however tonight I believe we will take a pass.”

“Why?” Rose half whined. “I think it could be fun getting’ to know him a little.”

“Fun for whom?” he groused petulantly.

Rose set her hands on her hips. “You said you wanted me to learn about you, Doctor. You said that. Before I make any decisions about you’n me, I should get to know the real you.” She grinned toward Braxiatel. “And who better to tell me all about you than the one you grew up with?”

Braxiatel grinned. “You can’t argue with that, Thete.”

The Doctor slouched. “Fine,” he droned through his teeth. “Fine. We’ll be happy to join you for supper. Thank you for the invitation.”

  
Rose bounced excitedly a single jump. “I just need to take a quick shower. Uh. Can you gimme a mo’?”

“Go right ahead, dear,” Braxiatel smoothed out politely with a smile that could light up a room. “Do be off, we have quite a walk ahead of us, and the sooner we can depart the better.” She made to leave and he cut in quickly. “And this code red of yours. I understand on you planet that’s a dire warning. IS there anything we should be made aware of?”

Her eyes widened and she shook her head in very tight and very uncomfortable movements. “Oh. Oh no. No. Just an – ehm – girl thing. Nothing for you to be alarmed about.”

The Doctor’s eyes widened in realisation, Brax just looked perplexed.

She thumbed over her shoulder. “Ten minutes. I promise.” 

And with that, she turned and ran.

Braxiatel turned toward his brother with curiosity and concern in his gaze. “After this encounter, I have two questions and one observation for you. Where would you like me to start?”

“Let’s get the painful part over first,” he said with a sigh. “What have you observed that you feel is necessary to share?”

Braxiatel smiled. “She is _very_ adorable. So unlike your other companion .. what was her name? Leela? All fearless, and to be feared. A right savage.”

“Warrior,” the Doctor corrected. “Very different upbringing than Rose.” He looked back toward the open doors of the TARDIS. “And Rose definitely has a fire inside her, Brax. You’re just not seeing it at present.”

“No,” he purred. “I’m obviously not. Still. Time will tell.” 

“Your questions?”

Braxiatel nodded. “Yes. She mentioned gardening.” He looked around. “Highly unnecessary in a forest clearing wouldn’t you say? Unless she’s planning to set up permanent residence on this mountain, it seems a rather pointless exercise.”

He shrugged. “She wants a garden inside the TARDIS,” he answered tiredly. “Has been working on and off on it for the past few weeks. For her own reasons, she has plans to replicate this area in a room inside the ship.” He shrugged. “A gift for me, she says, so that when I’m away from home, I always have it with me.” 

“How very … _adorable._ ” Brax managed quietly. “And also very strange. Gallifrey is only ever a flip of the dematerialisation switch away.”

“And your next question?”

“This code Red…”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Rose had taken only thirty seconds more than the ten seconds she had asked for. In that time she’d managed to shower, change, fix her hair, and apply a little makeup. Both men had been stunned when she’d emerged from the ship, dressed in black fitted slacks and a loose-fitting dark maroon blouse – both of which perfectly accented her curves. Her damp hair was held in place by an elaborately designed dark hair clip, with wispy curls kissing at her neck and cheeks. Her face was fresh and lightly powered, and her eyes thinly lined underneath thick black lashes.

The Doctor had exhaled a whistle of appreciation, and Braxiatel had actually bowed a little. Within only moments, and with Braxiatel offering his elbow to Rose, the three had begun their trek toward supper.

The walk took them along a well worn path through the forest. Their conversation was friendly and at times enthusiastic as the two brothers sparred with words, teases, and taunts toward each other. During lulls in their banter, Rose would stop, point, and ask both of her guides about plants and animals of interest, and how she would repeat their names in the language of the Time Lords.

Surprisingly, both men were happy to share their insight. Braxiatel was far more specific on her pronunciation than was the Doctor, and many times he would correct the way she spoke to ensure that her pronunciation was perfect to the trill.

They paused for a moment at a cliff’s edge to admire the setting suns falling down into the valley. Rose couldn’t help herself as she sighed in complete wonderment at the beauty of the landscape around them, and of the darkening wash of deep reds, purples, greens and oranges that filled the sky.

“Magnificent,” Rose breathed out with reverence. “I’ve never seen anythin’ more beau’iful.”

Braxiatel followed her gaze toward a scene he’d seen so many times before in his life and shrugged. “It’s a fine view, I suppose.” He then spoke in Gallifreyan and urges Rose to repeat it.

She didn’t this time, however. Instead, she moved in closer to him, shifting the hold she had of his elbow to wrap her arms around his. “Brax. How can you not look at that and not want to thank every deity looking down on us for blessing us with something so amazin’?”

He wasn’t quite used to being held like this – in fact he wasn’t used to anything of this nature at all – and so he looked down at her with discomfort on his face. He was well prepared to chide her for impropriety and being so wistful, but paused at the expression on her face. This young woman was truly, and without falter, awed by the sight. So much so, that her breaths were taking on a short whimpering sound. Looking across at his brother, he noted that the Doctor had much the same expression on his face – as though seeing a sunset for the very first time.

His eyes fell to the Doctor’s hand as it searched out that of his companion. Once found, the Doctor clutched her hand tightly and pulled her toward him. Rose immediately untangled herself from Braxiatel and wrapped herself against the Doctor’s side.

“Thank you for this,” the Doctor breathed out reverently to his companion as he dropped a kiss atop her head. “Thank you.”

Braxiatel’s eyes widened at the two of them, of their obvious easy closeness, and of the shared bond of awe they had toward the Gallifreyan sunset. Curious to understand this awe and appreciation, he looked toward the sunset once more and looked deeper into the coming night sky. And all at once he was hit with the majesty of it. How could he have missed this? He opened his mouth to make comment, but quickly inhaled those words as the call of a wolf howled across the cliffs.

The Doctor immediately pulled Rose behind him and took a step across her to keep her protected. “Brax?”

Braxiatel held up his hand to ask for pause and waited. The howling sound came again. “Dahrama,” he growled in warning. “Male, and none to happy right now.” He looked toward his Brother. “Thete, we need to get her out of here.”

“To where?” he snarled in reply. “We’re in the middle of Cadonwood and the TARDIS is an hour’s walk from here.”

Rose chutched onto the arm that the Doctor had held out across her path to shield her from whatever was ahead of them. She rolled onto the balls of her feet to look up over it. “Doctor, what’s wrong? What’s that sound?”

“Dahrama,” he hissed out quietly. “Similar in build and size to your wolves back on Earth…”

“Only several times more dangerous,” Braxiatel added through gritted teeth. “What are they doing here, Thete? This is not their territory. There hasn’t been a Dahrama sighting in two centuries.”

“I don’t know,” the Doctor grit in reply as another howl ripped by them. “Let’s hope it’s just a lone male. Together we can deal with one.”

“With what?” Braxiatel snapped in reply. “We don’t have any weapons between us.” He panted. “We just have to backtrack and hope he hasn’t caught out scent.”

Another more urgent howl echoed around the cliffs, this one followed by another howl more mournful than the first.

“Sepulchasm!” Braxiatel yelled out. “Two of them.”

“Language,” the Doctor chided him. “Watch your mouth in front of Rose.”

“It’s okay,” Rose peeped out. “Don’t think I’m not singing a bunch of swears inside my own head right now.” She squinted into the rapidly falling darkness to try and see exactly what lay ahead of them. “How bad are they?”

“That really does depend on a few factors, Rose,” he breathed out. 

“Are any of them ones that might give us a break?”

Braxiatel laughed under his breath. “Not any that immediately come to mind.” He pointed a finger into the Doctor’s chest. “The most important thing is that you keep Rose safe,” he warned. “Regenerate if you have to, but don’t let any harm come to her at all.”

“Oh aren’t you sweet,” Rose sang in an attempt at levity. She only received a glare from both men in response.

The Doctor nodded his agreement to the task. “And what about you?”

“I’ll put a call into the chancellory guard, see if I can have a capsule transported to the area to get us out.” He winced at another howl. “I don’t know how long that’s going to take.”

“Aren’t they time machines?” Rose hissed. “Can they get here, oh, you know, like in a second?”

The Doctor shook his head. “No time travel on Gallifrey, I’m afraid.”

“Well, shit,” she purred out as she looked across the cliffs. She was still held firmly back by the Doctor’s strong and unyielding arm, and still stood on her toes to try and peek into the darkness. Out of her peripheral, she could see Braxiatel press a communications device to his ear in the hopes of reaching help.

Her eyes quickly tracked toward a shelf overlooking the cliffs around the bend from hers as another howl swam through the trees. Her eyes tracked, and then locked upon a large white wolf, with its heaf thrown back and his nose in the sky, bellowing out a solemn howl to the stars. Its chest was painted purple and red from the sunset, it’s legs and belly soaked black in the darkness behind it. She panted in amazement, and in fear.

“Doctor,” she whispered with a squeeze at his arm. “He’s beautiful.”

Both he and Braxiatel lifted their heads quickly. “Where?” the Doctor hissed sharply.

Rose moved her arm up over his to point into the distance. “There. On the cliff.”

The Doctor narrowed his eyes for focus and saw the wolf across the way. “That’s him,” he confirmed as the wolf let out another howl. “Brax, we’ve got location, and I think if we can keep eyes on it, we should be fine.” He leaned his head to down to his companion. His voice softened. “Rose. I promise you I’ll keep you safe. Please listen to what we tell you – no matter how much you don’t like it.”

She nodded, her eyes locked on the animal ahead. It was a magnificent creature. It’s howl was haunting and relentless. It reach inside her soul and made her chest hurt. Each arch of its neck into the sky and the stomping, shifting of its front feet…

…Hold on…

Her focus on the sound of it tightened as she tilted her head to one side and listened. She blocked out the Doctor’s growl, and Braxiatel’s hissed demands over the phone, and just listened. The male howled out, and a second howl soon followed. The second how – it was close – but not close enough to either them nor the lone wolf on the cliffs. This one came from below them.

Her head flicked upward and she took a more analytical examination of the wolf. It lifted it’s head to howl, but lowered it to listen for a return. Its movements were not controlled, they were frantic. This was an animal in panic, not one proudly marking new territory.

“No,” she breathed out with a shake in her head. “No. This isn’t right. Something’s not right.” She pushed both hands against the Doctor’s arm with an unspoken demand for him to let her pass. He wasn’t focused on her movements, figuring she would stay put, so the barrier of his arm was breached quite easily.

He grabbed at her hand as she walked by him. “Rose,” he growled. “I said stay behind me.”

She waved him off and stalked onward, purpose in her movement to strive forward. “Something’s not right,” she whispered hoarsely over her shoulder in reply. She tugged her hand free of his, fought against him trying to grab it again, and then moved quickly through the scrub and trees toward the cliff shelf ahead.

The Doctor growled and took off after her, vainly trying to grab at any part of her to pull her back in line. “Rose,” he hissed. “Get back here. This isn’t safe.”

“Get her back here,” Braxiatel hissed. “Thete, nothing, and I mean _nothing_ is allowed to happen to her, do you hear me?”

The Doctor answered with only a glare that bellowed out _Do you think I don’t know that?!_ He focused himself back onto the hunt and capture of one Rose Tyler, and called out repeatedly for her attention.

“I have to help,” she called back over her shoulder. “Something’s wrong with him – cant you tell?”

“Don’t’ be so foolish, Rose,” he growled with equal part frustration and demand. “you can’t hope to defend yourself against power of that animal. Please, for Rassilon’s sake, stop.”

“I can’t,” she called. “Something’s wrong. I. I think somethin’s happened to his mate.”

“Not our problem!”

She growled as she leaps over a fallen tree and stumbled on her ankle. Despite the pain, she pushed on. “Then bugger off, Doctor. I’ve got this.”

She burst through the thicket and skidded to a stop that slid her along 6 feet of dewy red grass before she finally came to a stop. When she did, she was met face to face with a surprised white wolf that quickly dropped down onto its hunches – it’s rump in the air – and snarled an horrific and terrifying sound. She fell to her knees in front of it, and held her hands up in front of her. 

“S’alright,” she ventured as she leaned to one side to try and peer over the edge of the cliff. “I’m not here to hurt you, so please don’t hurt me.”

The Doctor flew out of the trees behind her, his red-tipped sonic screwdriver held out front of him like a weapon. He bellowed out a threatening sound toward the wolf in a language she was sure belonged to the beast, and fell to a knee beside her. He cocooned her with one arm and held her tightly against him, that sonic buzzing against her ear.

“My mate,” he warned the wolf in English before shifting again to snarls of warning.

In the distance she could hear Braxiatel yelling hot demands into his phone, and while the Doctor and the Dahrama held firm within their own standoff, Rose took her current moment of safety to press her hands into the grass and lever herself far enough to peer over the cliff’s edge.

With the slowly dawning moonlight breaking the horizon, she saw a shimmer of blue on a rocky outcrop below. A tighter focus, and Rose saw movement. A pained whimper and a frightened half-howl sound danced up the rocks.

“Oh my god,” she panicked out as she once again struggled out of the Doctor’s protective hold and scarpered on her hands and knees toward the edge.

“Rose!” the Doctor called out as he moved to make chase, only to be held in place when the wolf moved and let out a very threatening growl. The Doctor held up his sonic into the face of the animal, lighting its entire muzzle up over its ears with an eerier blood red glow. His hand blindly swiped through the air in search of her. “Rassion, Rose. Get back here. Please.”

Rose scrambled to her feet, ignorant to the power play happening between beat and Time Lord, and stepped side to side with indecision as to what she needed to do to help the animal trapped below.

The wolf snarled with her sudden movement and drew back again on its hunches. It shared its attention of threat between them both.

“Rose,” the Doctor begged on a growl. “Please, come here. Let me protect you!”

“No,” she ground out in reply. “His mate’s down there. She’s trapped.”

“That’s not my concern right now, Rose.” The Doctor was locked on one knee, hidden behind the glow of his sonic. 

“Yes it is!” she shot back angrily. She stomped a foot into the grass and shoved an angry wave toward the wolf. “Look at him, Doctor. He’s frantic, and he’s scared. His mate is down there, and he’s desperate to get to her!”

The Doctor looked away from the animal and shot the most dangerous of his oncoming storm glares toward her. “I don’t care about that,” he yelled. “I only care about _you_ and _your_ safety right now.”

“But his _mate_ ,” she cried out.

“And you’re _my_ mate,” he shot back. “I’m not risking you just to save her.”

She leaned down to sneer into his face. “I’m not _your_ anything,” she corrected sharply. “Your future’s made that perfectly clear to me – so tonight, just like every other night since the day you regenerated, I’m going to be _second_ -best!”

“How dare you,’ he bellowed as he dropped the hold of his sonic to let the glow colour the grass instead of the wolf.

The wolf snarled and lunged forward only a few inches. It held back only because of a call from down below. It quickly fled to the edge of the cliff and looked down below, momentarily lifting its head to howl deeply into the night.

“I told you,’ Rose snapped with a point toward the animal. “He’s fretting for his mate.”

The Doctor launched to his feet and talked quickly toward her. He held off on grabbing her arms in fear that he’d bruise her with his angered strength and instead hunched his shoulders down to speak into her face. “And so am I,” he growled. “And I don’t care what pitiful little worries you have thinking my future isn’t 100% dedicated to you. Here and now, in this moment, as I am: _you_ are my _only_ concern.” His breath hissed through his teeth. “And I will _die_ to protect you.”

“At the risk of that innocent creature below, stuck on a ledge?” She asked him with controlled fury. “Waiting to die?”

“Better her than you.”

“Then you’re not _my_ Doctor,” she declared with a sniff. “Because my Doctor would never allow any innocent creature to die if he thought he had any hope’n hell of helpin’ it out.” She stalked toward the trees and stooped to pick up a long orange vine from a plant wrapped around the limbs and trunk of a large tree. “Because noone’s more important than anyone else.” Her eyes looked sadly toward him. “You taught me that, Doctor. All gruff leather and ears and fire and anger… Sometimes everyone has to live.”

She wrapped the vine around her hips and waist twice, and then hauled the rest of the length of vine toward the cliff edge. “And tonight everyone will. I promise you.”

He felt that punch in the chest at her words, of her accusation, and then of her disappointment in him, and then realiisation dawned. Is this what had turned his future self into a pitiful fool who was willing to throw all this away? Because his love her for was so utterly all encompassing that he would ignore the plight of others just to save her?

He was only beginning to scratch the surface of this emotion toward her, and he was already finding himself heading in that exact direction.

He held that thought inside his throat as he shifted his gaze toward where she was heading toward the cliff. Her hands were held up defenselessly as the wolf snarled and pounded the ground. She looked toward the Doctor. There was less disappointment and more an expression for help on her face. “Please, Doctor,” she pleaded softly. “You speak it’s language. I know you do. Please tell him I’m only trying to help.”

The Doctor nodded slowly and looked toward the wolf. His lips parted and he spoke in huffs and growls that quickly seemed to soothe the animal. It dropped down completely onto its hunches and whimpered as Rose finally made it to the edge of the cliff.

“It’s okay,” she assured him as she braved reaching out to touch the wolf’s head. “She’ll be okay.”

She took a last look of thanks toward her Time Lord and breathed out a word of thanks as she got down onto her knees and then slipped down over the edge.


	8. The Descent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose rappels down into the darkness...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short one today as I had a day of endless interruptions and zero time to play. I'm disappointed in that, but what can I do?
> 
> Sorry to end it here....
> 
> ...Or am I?

~~oooOOOooo~~

Braxiatel cautiously appeared from out of the trees lining the edge of the cliff. He kept his eyes on the wolf which was now looking over the edge and whimpering pitifully, and put his phone into a small pocket on his waistcoat. He flicked at the lower edge of his blazer and brushed himself off.

“A team is being scrambled to launch a capsule,” he advised the Doctor. “They should be here momentarily.” He looked around with a furrow in his brow. “Where is she?”

The Doctor remained in a tense and rigid stand on the grass six feet from the edge of the cliff. “What’s their ETA?”

“Where’s Rose?” Braxiatel asked instead of answering, feeling that her location and well being was far more urgent. He twisted left and right in search of their tiny blonde companion. “Rose! Rose, where are you?”

The Doctor’s stance hadn’t relaxed nor shifted from its tight and rigid state. “She’s going to be the death of me, Brax,” he breathed out on a low and furious breath.

“Fine, maybe then you’ll regenerate into someone with an ounce of responsibility to duty,” Braxiatel barked in reply. He finally saw the thick vine that lay across the grass that dropped over the edge of the cliff. His eyes widened when he saw it flex, tighten, and then move sharply to one side. “By the Gods of Arcadia, Thete!” He snapped a glare at his brother. “She went down there? Alone? Are you truly that treasonous that you will risk…”

“Oh shut your damn mouth,” the Doctor interrupted with a yell as his body was finally released from it’s furious lock. He thrust his arm out to point toward the cliff’s edge. “That young woman is from Earth, Brax. And because you aren’t fully unaware of the behaviours of Humans, know this: Female Humans represent the most dangerous half of that entire species. When they get their mind set on something – especially when it involved compassionate peril of others - you _don’t_ stop them … and short of tying them up, that’s a near impossible task to even try and attempt. Rassilon knows I’ve tried before – and failed miserably at it.”

“Romantic nonsense,” Braxiatel growled. “She’s your mate,” he continued. “She’s your responsibility to tame and control…”

“And that’s outdated rubbish,’ he barked back. “I’ve no intention of-“

“When you two are done arguing,” Rose interrupted with harsh annoyance from the cliff. “I’ll let no one control me – not even my Mum – so don’t bother tryin’.” She looked toward her Time Lord. “Doctor, throw me your sonic.”

Both men immediately broke their standoff and ran to the edge. Braxiatel held out his hand to her. “Up you come, Rose. I’ll help you up.”

She glared at the hand and then up at him. “No, ta.”

“Young lady, I said-“

“And I said no,” she snarled. Her eyes shifted to the Doctor, whose hand was held down to her in much the same manner is his brothers. Her feet shuffled on the dusty cliff egde as the vine stretched and tried to retract, but she kept a firm hold of it via a single loop around one hand. “It’s dark down here,” she advised him gently. “I need the light of your sonic to get me safely to her.” She gulped and looked down at a whimper from the rocky outcrop, and then back up at him. “And she might also be hurt, so I’ll need it to fix what I can to make her comfortable down there.”

“Come up,” he pleaded softly. “I’ll go down to her.”

  
“I’m with There,” Braxiatel offered, his hand still held down and flicking insistently for her to take hold of it so he could pull her to safety. “Let him help, you come up here where you’ll be safe.”

She shook her head. “I’m already here, so I’m stayin’. You can come if you want, but there’s really not much room.” She hooked one hand tightly at the top of the loop around her srist and held out the other. “Please, Doctor, your sonic. I don’t think we have too much time to stand around arguin’ about it.”

The Doctor pulled his sonic from his pocked and knelt at the cliff’s edge. Beside him, the frightened wolf whimpered with urgency. He offered it a supportive growl and huff and then held his sonic out to Rose. “Please, my hearts, be careful.”

She took the sonic with a smile. “Your _Hearts_ ,” she repeated softly as she thumbed the switch to activate the light. She tucked the thin shaft of it into the valley between her breasts, held firmly into her bra, and then hooked that hand onto the part of the vine below her other wrist. She looked up with a light shake in her head. “Very cute name, Doctor, but don’t get ahead of yourself.” She pressed both feet into the cliff face and kicked off to lower herself down. “In _your_ timeline, we’re not there yet.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as she looked down to focus on her descent. “About what I said back there…” He swallowed thicky. “It’s just, I…”

“I’ll see you shortly,” Rose cut in without looking up, saving him from having to continue. “We can talk about it later.”

He watched worriedly from his perch beside an equally worried large wolf as she disappeared from view to him, now just a red light descending low into the pit. He stretched a hand toward the animal and petted its head. “Tell me,” he whispered brokenly. “Is your mate as reckless and bullheaded as mine is?”

The wolf let out a simple and breathy woof in reply.

“I know the feeling…”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Having grown up in London, Rose Tyler wasn’t exactly used to tropical-style heat and humidity. On those rare occasions that her city did experience a heatwave or two, the temperature really didn’t climb all that high. Humidity wasn’t an unbreathable 90% like it felt about right now.

Gallirey was warm. She wasn’t going to be polite and gentle on that observation. This was heat more suited to the deserts of Australia, the humitity more apt for the Northern coastal cities of the same continent. She supposed it was the fact that there were two suns in the sky on any day, and both of them seemed to compete against each other for the most blazing of the two. 

This also meant that it took quite a while for the planet to cool down once the suns had taken their leave on this part of Gallifrey. The ground was hot, and the damp soil insulated that warmth. 

Why was this observation important as she repelled slowly and awkwardly down the cliff?

…Because heat and humidity meant sweating in places she didn’t know could sweat, and she needed the friction of dry skin to be able to safely make it down this cliff face.

She grunted as her sweating palms slid against the smooth vine. More than once she released a hand to wipe it against her shirt. She’d fall a quick free-fall slide of about 10cm each time she had to do so, and after a sharp shrilling yelp of fright the first two times it happened, she allowed herself to accept the reality of it, and planned for that eventually on any remaining hand wiping.

Fortunately the damp rocks and soils that lined the cliff face were pliant enough for her to be able to dig in her toes and heels to find solid purchase. Without that give to help her, she would have fallen almost immediately.

Up above her the Doctor called out several times, asking if she was okay and did she want him to come down and help. And although having him at her side would have given her far more confidence in herself than she currently held – despite telling him otherwise – there simply wasn’t enough room for the two of them. At least not down there. Not on that small little crook of rock that caught the falling wolf God knows how long ago.

She finally made it to the little outcrop, and to the lonely wolf. The poor thing, it panicked immediately upon descent, and once Rose’s feet touched the shelf, the frightened creature began to yap and snarl in warning that she was not to be tested.

Rose tired to ignore the horrific snarling and growling from beside her as she cautiously tested the strength of the ledge and whether or not it would be able to take her weight. The moment her foot touched the ledge, the wolf snapped at it in a repeated snapping snarling manner that looked quite like the animal was open-mouth chewing at the air itself. 

Rose released one hand from the vine, but had enough strength in the other to hold her firmly in place. She petted into the air in a placating manner, hoping beyond hope that the animal would know that she only wanted to help.

It shuffled back as best it could, but sat on its hunches growling a sound of warning.

“Okay, Okay,” she pleaded out breathily. “You just stay there that’s okay. Lemme take a look at you.”

She removed the sonic from between her breasts and increased the beam’s range to scan the area surrounding the wolf. Dirt, Rocks, a thin, but obviously strong web of tree roots wrapped around her foot and hindquarters. She bit her lip and scanned the animal itself for any sign of major injury. Even though the white wolf was illuminated in blood-red light, Rose could immediately determine that there was no bleeding. The animal wasn’t crying out or whimpering, which meant that it wasn’t in any real pain…

…Unless Gallifreyan wolves signalled pain in other ways …

Here’s hoping not…

Rose finally assessed that there were two main problems that she had to overcome in order to help out her new friend. One: Both of them were stuck on a small precipice with a black drop into nothing beneath them. Would she have the strength to pull her up,a dn would the wolf have the strength to help out in getting back up? Two: This little lady was vicious and absolutely terrified – and possessed a really nasty set of jaws that looked big and strong enough to take down a damn tractor if it felt so inclined to do so. If Rose couldn’t get her to stop snapping at her, then neither of them looked like they were going to get through tonight alive.

Still hanging from the vine, Rose tried to reach forward again with her hand held palm up in an invitation for the wolf to take a sniff and determine that yes, she was the friendly sort.

The wolf was not as easily tempted as a domestic Earth dog and launched forward to snap a hard bite. That jaw closed around Rose’s wrist hard. As Rose let up a loud belch of pain, and a returning bellow for her safety rang out from above them, the wolf suddenly released her.

Rose instinctively released the only hold she had on the vine to cradle her now injured arm against her chest. Immediately she dropped, wailing out a sound of fright and shock and flailed her arms to try and clutch again at the vine. She called out his name, she couldn’t help it. If she was falling, then he would be the one to catch her.

He had to: He promised!

And from above the thunder that was Time’s anger burst from the sky above and howled its way down into the darkness below.


	9. Saving her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor Rushes to save Rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope this chapter makes up for the terrible chapter yesterday.... IT's not terribly long, but it ate up some time today.
> 
> For those still with me, thank you. Thank you, oh, thank you.
> 
> **Remember: There is always a reason for anything I write, no matter how stupid it may first appear. Bear with, and don't think I'm losing it.

~~oooOOOooo~~

The Doctor was beginning to fret in the same frantic way that the Dahrama was. Still kneeling over the cliff’s edge, his hands began to paw and clutch at the grasses, so much so that he’d removed chunks by their roots and was now digging at the dirt below.

Pain and discomfort started to settle inside the Time Lord’s chest. Nausea soon took hold, and the Doctor knew that they were walking a perilous razor’s edge toward fracturing a fixed point.

“Do you feel that, Brax?” he asked his brother quietly. 

“Feel what?” He snarled in reply. “The urge to kick you over the edge of that cliff to join your foolish mate in destroying all of reality?”

The Doctor shook his head. “Never mind.” Obviously the worry of the universe wasn’t yet great enough for his brother to sense it. _He_ was feeling it though. It took him his all not to lean over into the ravine and expel the meagre contents of his stomach, such was the swirling inside his belly. Curse this sensitivity. He’d never been strong enough to fight Time’s wrath or warning when it hit – and many times he buckled over and fell at its power. He hoped that the true fury of Time would hold until he knew Rose was safe. If she needed him, being incapacitated wouldn’t allow him the privilege of being her saviour.

He heard a yelp from below and called to her. There was scuffling, a hiccupped peep, and then a return call of assurance that she was okay.

Curse this woman. Curse humans and their capacity for compassion toward all living things. Curse their need to risk it all for one. Curse their fragility … Curse _him_ for so easily finding feeling for them. 

“It doesn’t sound good down there, Thete,” his brother breathed worriedly, anger obviously fleeing for concern toward Rose’s wellbeing. “We should get down there and help.”

The Doctor shook his head. “She’s actually better served with us being up here,” he admitted gravely. “Up here we can provide support – down there, we’re as helpless as she is.” He looked up. “Brax. Is there any word of timing for when the Chancellery Guard will be here?”

Braxiatel shook his head. “No. I haven’t been able to get even an approximate timeline from them.”

The Doctor snorted. “Typical. Lords of Time, and none of them can actually give us any.”

“Romana’s on it,” he breathed out. “There’s something happening at the shipyards with the union. They’re battling to get through the lines. As president, she’s hoping she’s able to step in to control the situation and get us transport.”

The Doctor shook his head. “Do they not know the importance of this? Of _her_?”

“They don’t actually believe it,” he sighed. “How can a harmless and insignificant creature from a class three planet can be the one who holds reality’s future in her hands. They’d more easily believe that task was yours.” He crouched down beside the Doctor and peered over the edge as scuffling and scraping sounds sounded up over the edge. “Are you okay, Rose?”

Words of assurance once again answered the worry.

“Go to her,” Braxiatel urged. “I can handle anything up top. You should be there making sure that you can control any issues down there.”

The Doctor nodded and pressed his hands into the grass to push himself to a stand. “You’re right Brax,” he admitted quietly as he stretched to his full height and turned in search of a vine of his own. “I’ve never been one to…” His words switched into a long and pained groan that seemed to draw out his breath in full. He fell to one knee, and then to two, and then finally rolling onto his back in pain.

Braxiatel was at his side, immediately. “Thete!” he called out in panic. “What in the name of Omega is wrong with you?”

“Fixed point. Time’s … fracturing,” he ground out through his teeth at he clutched fistfuls of hair in his hands and battled to stay focused. “Rassilon … it hurts.”

“By Arcadia’s dome,” Braxiatel seethed through his teeth. He looked toward the cliff, and then back to his brother writing with pain on the grass. He snatched his phone from his pocket and rapidly dialed a familiar series of numbers. “If you’re feeling it this much, Thete, I can only assume the matricians are feeling it too. There’s going to be panic at the Capitol.”

There was a horrified call of the Doctor’s name from deep below them and a and a cry for him to help her. Despite the pain in his head and the nausea in his gut, the Doctor immediately rolled off this back, through his knees, and then launched himself over the edge of the cliff.

He heard his brother’s shrill and panicked cry behind him; heard him beg for him to stop, but he ignored it. His focus now shifted from pain and nausea into absolute determination, and he snapped out a hand to grab at Rose’s vine. His expression steeled, and his eyes flicked in search. He let the hook of his arm and his hand work on finding the vine, and his feet kick off the wall. With a spiralling motion he quickly sped down along the vine toward to sound of a sharp cry and calling of his name.

Internally he cried out for her to hold on; that he was coming; but outwardly his face was a rock. Intense focus rendered him completely silent. He saw a flash of blonde hair below and kicked hard off the wall. His hand locked around the vine, slid on a slick wet patch, and then locked hard above a hard petiole that anchored a broad flat leaf. Anchored tight, he thrust his hand into the darkness, swatted through the air, and finally captured the wrist of a flailing hand below.

The vine snapped tight, he felt his entire body flip upside down. Both arms stretched wide, but strong despite the perilous position. The hard tensing of his arm against the sudden weight below him, drew an involuntary and long cry of shock and pain from deep inside his chest. That cry of pain shifted into a longer bellow of exertion as he pulled with his all to secure his terrified mate in his grasp and pull her in toward the cliff’s face.

Slowly, and with his feet against the wall as anchors, he managed to secure his position and levered himself first horizontally, and then upright. One hand was held high on the vine above him, the other hung down low between the part of his legs. He pressed his feet into the wall and straightened his legs to push bim backward.

“Rose,” he hissed through his teeth as he struggled with his grasp. “Can you lift yourself?”

Her terrified eyes shone through her fallen fringe. She panted a pair of breaths and swallowed thickly. “I – I don’t know.”

“Try,” he grit out. “Grab my foot, climb my leg. Do whatever you have to do to get secure.”

“I’m going to fall,” she whimpered.

“No,” he growled as he tightened his hold on her wrist and tried desperately to pull her up. “I won’t let you.” He let out another strained cry as he used everything he had in him to try and pull her up. “But you have to help me.”

Rose’s still flailing arm finally lifted to clutch at the top of his boot. She flexed the arm he still held and managed to lift herself enough to grab at his ankle. 

“That’s it, Rose,” he praised in urging as he used his own waning strength to help lift her. “That’s my girl. Keep going. You can do it.”

She didn’t bother telling him she was trying, nor really respond to his urging at all. She merely grunted and huffed as she held on to his wrist and used the wall behind her to shuffle her feet and lift her up. Her face finally made it to the part in between his legs. Her face met with his groin, but neither thought anything of it as she hooked her arm around his waist and then shook her wrist free of his to complete the circle her grasp and hold herself securely at his waist.

“H-Hello,” she managed with a weak smile from his belly as she rolled her shoulder blades along the wall to lift herself higher.

“Hello indeed,” he ground out through his teeth, still sore with exertion and perilously hanging the two of them with a single hand still wrapped around the wine. “I’m going to grab you by your rear, Rose,” he warned her. “Not breaking the rules, I just need that leverage to get you up on that ledge. Are you ready?”

She nodded urgently. “Go for it, Doctor. I – I’m ready.”

His nod was pained, and he dropped a shoulder to move his arm across the underneath of her rear. His fingers dug painfully into the side of her thigh, and he growled as he tensed himself up once more to find the strength to lift her.

Once safely secured in his arm, Rose released his waist and leaned back to clutch at the rocky wall and walked her hands up toward the ledge.

“Almost there,” he hissed. “Just another few inches.”

He hands found the edge, and she growled out her own sound of struggle as she used what was left of herself to finally scramble her grip enough to push her backside onto the ledge. When she did, she scrambled as far back against the wall as she could.

The Doctor had only enough room I front of her to secure his knee on the ledge. It wasn’t enough to take the load off his arm, and so he still hung from the vine. “Are you – are you okay?” he panted wetly as his lips slapped together and he swallowed thickly.

Beside him the wolf growled dangerously and snapped a vicious bite toward him. The Doctor, not willing to be up with this nonsense any longer, sharply growled and huffed at her, and then smacked her nose with the fingers of his free hand. The animal quickly yelped out a shrill sound of surprise and shuffled back to cower submissively.

“That will be enough from you,” he warned her sharply with a switch to English for Rose’s benefit. “Foolish animal. Get yourself trapped and then bite the hand that helps you.”

“Speaking of,” Rose muttered as she lifted her arm into his view. “She did get me quite good.”

Lit by the large blue moon rising in the mountain range, the Doctor could see a line of deep puncture marks along Rose’s forearm. There was blood, but not enough to cause him too much alarm. “I can fix that up back at the TARDIS,” he offered gently. His eyes moved up to hers, and expression of concern on his face. “Tell me, are you hurt otherwise?”

“Just scraped and bruises,” she replied breathily. “Nothin’ that’ll take more’n a day or two to heal up.”

He looked away from her and kicked off the wall a little. He scanned for an area that he might be able to seat himself and plot a path toward their freedom back up top, but was called back to her when she made a soft whimpering sound. His attention fell back immediately toward her. “Are you okay?”

“You saved me,” she breathed out, now that safety had allowed her fear to fall in. “I called, and you came.”

He looked surprised by that. “Yes. Of course I did. You needed me.” He smiled only on one side of his mouth. “What kind of mate would I be if I didn’t?”

“You’re not my…” She stopped herself and tilted her head at him. “I almost fell. And you were there. To stop me.”

“I told you,” he said with a smile. “I’ll never let you fall.”

“But I did,” she whispered with a shake entering her muscles. She looked down and then back up at him. “And if you didn’t catch me…”

“Then I would have fallen with you,” he vowed quietly. “Like I promised you I would.”

She said nothing further and quickly rocked herself forward. She captured his cheeks in her hands and pressed her mouth to his. Although her lips were slightly parted, and he had certainly had met her mouth eagerly, the kiss remained just a kiss. It was not heated, noisy, nor full of tongues; it was simply two sets of lips, pressed firmly against each other, gently rolling in perfect synch.

When she pulled back from him, it was only a short way. Her breaths were heavy and panted as she pressed her forehead against his.

“What was that for?” he asked breathlessly, his hand still clinging to the vine, and his leg perilously dangling over the edge of the cliff. 

“Thank you,” she breathed out. “For saving me.”

He let his free hand settle on her thigh. “I thought kissing against the rules.”

She let out a quiet laugh. “I was never really one for rules.”

He hummed in agreement. “Neither was I,” he chuffed in reply, tilting his head to one side and moving forward to capture her waiting lips with his.

They barely touched again before they were quickly drawn apart by a whimper from the wolf. Rose quickly nodded, swallowed, and let her voice stagger over her words. “I – I guess we should help her out, yeah?”

The Doctor nodded in agreement and looked up at his hand, still straining on the vine. “It might also be a good idea for me to join the both of you on the ledge. I’m not all that confident that this arms got enough strength to maintain this position much longer.”

Rose’s eyes widened and she let out a peep. “Oh my God, Doctor! I didn’t think! Sorry.” She shuffled to the side, and toward the still cowering animal. She held out her hand. “There’s room here.”

He grunted as he maneuvered himself from the relatively secure hold of the vine and onto the small outcrop. It took a few moments, but he was finally able to get himself into a safe position at her side and released the vine. It flopped and whacked at the wall, but hung close enough that he knew he could quickly retrieve it if necessary. He shook his aching hand and arm to reintroduce adequate blood flow and looked around her shoulders at the back of the wolf.

“Thiffawen,” he muttered with a wince. “That poor girl, she must be in pain?”

“Sorry?” 

“Thiffawen,” he repeated. “It’s a rather nasty form of parasitic ivy. Grows mainly underground and chokes the nutrient out of the root systems of trees and other plants.” He took his sonic screwdriver from where it had been discarded on the ledge before Rose’s fall, and aimed the light toward the mass of vines around the wolf’s legs. “It’s not entirely picky on where it gets its sustenance from, and will leech onto anything – animal or plant.”

Rose gasped. “Oh. That’s horrible!” She looked to the whimpering animal. “So. So it’s sucking her nutrients out?”

He shook his head. “Not as yet,” he lectured gently. “When it finds itself a living animal host, it will choke its victim first, wait until there’s no struggle left in it, and then start to draw what if can.” He reached around her and shone the light around the legs of the wolf to assess just how tightly the branches were wound around them. He let out a long breath. “Oh dear.”

Rose’s eyes were wide and worried for the poor creature. “Is it bad?”

“It’s not _bad_ ,” he answered, “But it’s not exactly _good_ , either. I can remove it all, and she will almost immediately recover from it.” He frowned. “But it’s going to hurt her.” He shifted to look around Rose’s back at the wolf, and breathed out a snarl and couple of huffs. He waited for a return snuffle, and then shifted again to look at his companion. “I’ll need you to comfort her.”

An expression of panic crossed her features. She looked at him, at the wolf, and than back to him. “How, exactly, do you suggest I do that?” She held up her arm, swelling and sore from the bite moments ago. “I don’t want another one of these.”

He jutted his chin in a gesture toward the animal. “I’ve assured her that you mean no harm, and that we’re only here to help.”

“Yeah,” she whined. “But what about when the pain kicks in, Doctor? Did you warn her about that, too?”

He lightly pushed her shoulders in urging for her to move to settle the wolf. “She’s Gallifreyan,” he assured her. “I don’t think there is a living creature on this planet who doesn’t know what to expect when an entanglement of Thiffawen happens.” He shuffled his own position to further urge Rose across to the wolf. “I vow to you that you’ll be free of snapping jaws … at least for now.” He smiled weakly. “I can’t make any promises toward any subsequent Dharama encounters – of which I hope there will be none.”

“If you promise,” she breathed out unsurely. “Is there anythin’ I should say to her, you know, in wolf speak, to let her know I’m just helpin’?”

“Just light huffs will do the trick, Rose,” he offered. “She’ll respond to the honesty in your tone, and smell your sense of fear.”

“Nice,” she whimpered. “Doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Which shows her your courage,” he amended quickly. “Ig you’re willing to fight the fear to comfort her, then you are truly hers to cry to.” He touched her cheek tenderly. “If I think for a second she’ll react, I’ll stop and get you clear.”

Rose nodded and shifted closer toward the wolf. It eyeballed her warily as she approached, but didn’t rise toward aggression. Instead she lifted her nose to smell the air and offered a forlorn whimper.

Rose very timidly reached out her hand, and was surprised when the wolf lifted her nose for a sniff, and then moved forward for a nose-touch against the pads of her fingers.

“Oh well look at you,” the Doctor said with a chuckle that wasn’t condescending at all. “Fast friends, the two of you.”

Rose moved closer to the wolf and braved holding her hands around her face. The wolf’s eyes met with hers and lifted up to shorten the distance. “Tell me, beautiful girl, is your mate an unreasonable, condescending git, too?”

“I thought I wasn’t your mate,” the Doctor reminded her as he shifted to the back end of the wolf and changed the settings on his Sonic. “Or, at the very least, you weren’t _mine_.”

Rose felt her confidence rise and shifted enough so that she could have her back against the wall, and the wolf’s head cradled on her lap. “Let’s say it’s a work in progress,” she replied softly without looking up at him in fear of his face falling into an expression of rejection. “If. If that’s okay?”

“Just … Just hold her firm and keep her calm,” the Doctor answered. There was a smile on his face that was heard in his voice. “When we are all safe, then you and I can talk about mating… ehm, that is to say: _being_ mates.”

He shook off that little slip and shifted to the Thiffawen vines. He clicked air in through the side of his mouth as he scanned for the least evasive method possible to free this poor girl. Not wanting to prolong it anymore, he depressed the switch of his sonic and began to cut at the vine. Through the buzz if his sonic, he heard the animal let out a cry of pain. She jerked and pulled and scratched her clawed paws on the dusty rock. He hummed and huffed to assure her it would be all over soon … but a sonic wasn’t a knife. This was going to take a minute.

Through the buzz and the howl, he heard a soft song. One sung like a lullaby: Calming, gentle, soft. It wasn’t anything indigenous to Gallifrey, and quite frankly where would it come from if it was? He flicked his eyes up to Rose and saw her leaning down with her head on top of the wolf’s head, her lips moving a gentle song as she stroked her hand along its fur. He couldn’t quite hear the words, or even recognise the tune, but it seemed to work, and the wolf’s cries shifted to whimpers. 

As delightful as that image was, he shook it from his mind. He had to focus on getting this beautiful girl free, and then perhaps he could sit with Rose and let her sing to him like she was singing to her. 

It really did take only a few more moments for the last of the vine to fall and free the wolf’s legs. As the animal kicked to find its new freedom, the Doctor aimed the sonic at the plant and increased power to max to shrivel the dam thing where it grew.

“Take that,” he growled. “And die you revolting waste of cell replication…”

He could still hear Rose’s voice softly singing to the wolf, and the wolf still lying supinely with her head in her lap. The animal huffed contentedly, and seemed to quite enjoy the gentle strokes along her fur.

“You two look very comfortable there,” he commented with a smile as he took a seat on the opposite side of the crag with his back against the wall. “I wouldn’t believe that the creature you’re singing to is one of the most dangerous and feared creatures on Gallifrey.”

Rose looked up with a smile. “Big teddy bear,” she sighed happily. “Is she okay?”

“You and your reference to all things big and mean being as soft as teddy bears,” he remarked with a shake in his head. “You have a gift for wrapping those creatures otherwise aggressive around your little finger.”

That made her laugh. “Hardly.”

He leaned forward to attempt to pet the animal and was warned off with a growl. He snapped his hand back, scowling at Rose’s laugh. “You ingrate,” he growled before saying the same inside huffs and grunts in the wolf’s tongue.

Rose petted the wolf’s shoulder with a couple of firm slaps. “Now now, you. The Doctor here was the one who saved us both. If it wasn’t for him, we’d both be dead, so be nice.” She looked up at him and reached out a hand to take his. She clutched onto his hand tightly, stroking at his knuckles with her thumb. “So what now? How’re we going to get all of us back up there?”

“No idea right now,” he answered with a sigh. “I don’t know that I’ve got enough strength left right now to get all three of us up. May have to wait until morning when we can actually see what’s around us and make a plan.”

She winced. “Brax won’t be happy about waitin’ around all night. Reckon he might be able to lend a hand?”

The Doctor bellowed out a large belch of amusement. “Brax? Nah, he’d be worried about breaking a nail or getting dirt on his suit.” He looked up when he heard movement above them. His eyes widened in surprise. “It can’t be…”

Three tick and heavy ropes rolled loudly down the embankment. Both Rose and the Doctor flinched at falling rocks and dirt as three large masses descended down each rope. Flashlight beams from helmet lights shifted around them, and within moments a set of crimson boots touched down on the ledge beside the Doctor.

A young man, likely in his 20’s by Earth standards, clicked a fastener on his belt and leaned back on his rope. He looked either side of him at another pair of men. “Nespar, this ledge isn’t going to support all of us. Animate an extension toward the front to give us some leverage.” He looked to the other side. “Primdar, get us some more steady light here. These shifting beams give me a headache.”

Two words to the affirmative quickly followed, and the young man looked toward the Doctor. His smile lit up as the area did the same from an orb placed centre of what looked to be a cement extension to the front of the crag. He loosened his hitch enough to be able to crouch comfortably in front of him.

“Lord Doctor,” he cheered. “Perorasusis of the Oakdown chapter, and Rescue Ops Commander of the Prydon unit. Heard you might be in the need of some assistance.”

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor replied with a small level of annoyance in his tone. “What did you say your name was again? Fred?”

“Perorasusis,” he repeated without offence. “Commander Pero if you prefer.”

“Pero will do just fine,” he grumbled. He then gestured toward Rose. “Please see to my companion before you do me. Her safety is my utmost concern, and so it should be yours as well. If anything happens to her, then it won’t just be she and I who’ll need help tonight.”

Pero pursed his lips and nodded. “Yep. Cardinal Braxiatel warned me you might be a little testy,” he said slowly as he turned his attention toward Rose and the Dahrama. His eyes widened. “Oh. My. Is that the mate of the one up top we had to tranquilize before we cold come down here?”

Rose looked mortified. “You did what? Oh, not necessary at all, really. S’long as he knew you were helpin’ he’d be okay. He was just worried about her.” She scratched the wolf behind her ears. “They’re quite lovely and friendly, really.” She kissed the wolf’s head to accent her point and giggled when the animal licked at the tip of her nose. She looked up. “See?”

“Uh-huh,” he managed. He shook himself and held out his hand. “Commander Pero,” he said in introduction. “I understand you are Rose, and you’re the Doctor’s mate.”

“Friend,” she corrected. “Companion. Not mate.”

Again, his expression was one of surprise. He quickly stifled that reaction and flicked his fingers in a request for her to take his hand. “Well. Time to get you secured on my line, then I’ll escort you back up the cliffs. Primdar will take the Lord Doctor up, and Nespar’s tasked with cleanup down here.”

“What about this one?” Rose asked. “I think she’s hurt, so you should get her up top first.” Before he could argue, and she could see it forming in his eyes. “I’m not goin’ up without her, so if you don’t wanna take her up by yourself, then you best be planning on how that rope is going to carry three of us up.”

Pero looked toward the Doctor for assistance. The Doctor shook his head. “I cannot help you out with this one, young Lord.” He gestured toward Rose. “One thing I’ve definitely learned about this rather incredible woman tonight is that she can give Omega a run for his money with how bullheaded she is when her mind is set.”

“Bullheaded?” Pero shook his head. “I don’t follow.”

“Bullheaded,” Primdar offered. “Stubborn, uncompromising, unmanageable – pretty much any word that’s used to describe the Lord Doctor.”

The Doctor grinned as he looked toward a dark-skinned Time Lord that was digging inside a large red bag to retrieve a rescue harness. “I’d take offence if any of those descriptors were incorrect in any manner. As it is, you’ve proven you’ve read up on me. I’m actually flattered.”

Primdar chuckled. “Wouldn’t be that flattered, Sir. I work as escort to Cardinal Braxiatel on his consular travels around Kasterborous. He’s not exactly tight-lipped when it comes to recounting your adventures.” He strode around Pero and held his hand out to Rose. “I’ll escort you and the Dahrama up the wall. She seems comfortable with you, so I’m not fearful that she’ll tear any of my limbs off.”

“Are they really that bad?” Rose held out her hand and let Primdar draw her up to a stand. The wolf followed quickly and kept close to Rose’s legs. There was a hum of warning from the animal, but it didn’t make to lunge or attack.

Primdar gulped. His voice was tight and his movements guarded. “Their reputation is legendary, as are their kill counts. Fortunately, regeneration energy scared them off, so there really aren’t all that many cases of a Time Lord actually expiring from a Dahrama attack.”

“That isn’t to say it hasn’t happened,” the Doctor warned. “So again, if anything happens to Rose, you’ll also hurt that young lady, and that male up top will hunt you down and tear you to shreds.” He leaned in close. “And I’ll be there to take up the hunt when the regeneration energy dissipates.”

Rose shot him a look of surprise. “Wow, Doctor. Testy, much?”

“I don’t like your safety being in their hands,” he groused. “Your protection is mine to take.”

Rose breathed out a sound of adoration. She stepped over a rope, around Pero, and put her hands on the Doctor’s face. “Awww. I love you too, Doctor.”

Although she said it in teasing, the Doctor snatched out an arm and hooked it around her waist to draw her up against his chest. He captured the startled breath that flew out of her mouth in a searing, chaste press of his mouth against hers.

“My hearts,” he breathed out in a fierce vow when he released her mouth, but held her to him. 

She pressed her finger to his lips, knowing how that sentence ended after hearing it so many times before from her lover in leather. “Please don’t,” she whispered. “They can’t. Not yet … you barely even know me.”

He watched her walk toward Primdar. “And how long did it take me – in the future – to realise that?”

_Less time than now,_ she wanted to admit, but knew she couldn’t. Leather had fallen rather fast. On only their second TARDIS adventure together he was holding her hand tightly and saying how glad he was to meet her. 

“Not now,” was all she replied to him with. This was not the setting, and not the company that she wanted to have any conversation of this kind in. She stooped to pet the wolf and then helped the friendly Time Lord to secure a harness around it’s chest.

Nespar tapped on the Doctor’s shoulder and offered a harness. He would have offered to assist as Primdar was doing with Rose, but he really wasn’t all that confident that the Doctor would be willing to accept such assistance. “Sir,” he said quietly. “If you wouldn’t mind. Lady President Romanadvoratrelundar and Castellan Andredaselus are waiting up on top with the Cardinal. It’s best we don’t keep them waiting too long.” 

The Doctor’s eyes lit up. “Romana? Well it has been a while since I’ve had the pleasure of her company.”

  
“If the Cardinal has his way, Sir, then you’ll be in her company quite a lot.”

The Doctor frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“Not my place to say, Sir,” Nespar replied professionally. “Best you discuss with him once you’re safely back up on the mountain.” 

The Doctor looked toward Rose, who was not attached to both Wolf and Time Lord only feet away. “Rose. Please do be careful.”

“It’s okay,” she called with a giggle when she picked up the wolf and held it against her chest. The animal growled playfully and lifted its head backward to attempt to lick at her face like a dog excited to be wrestling with it’s owner.

Nespar chuckled and attached himself to the Doctor’s harness. “If I am permitted. Congratulations, Sir.”

“Congratulations on what?”

Nespar didn’t look at the Doctor, he instead looked up along the height of the rope and gave it a good tug. “For becoming the companion of a mated pair of Dahrama.”

The Doctor’s voice hitched as the both he and Nespar started to rise from the ground. “Don’t be foolish, man. No Time Lord has ever been chosen as the master of a Dahrama – let alone a mated pair. And besides, I really don’t have the time nor the lifestyle for pets.”

Nespar chuckled and directed the Doctor’s attention toward where Rose was still giggling and happily petting the wolf as she was lifted up the mountainside. “I’m afraid you don’t much have a choice, Sir. You know how it works. Once chosen by an animal – any animal - you must accept the partnership.” He grinned. “You’re now the proud owner of two of the most feared animals on Gallifrey.”


	10. Romana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor sees an old friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to put some mud in these crystal waters ... 
> 
> Big thankees to all for your wonderful comments. Oh, it's so exciting to hear from you.
> 
> Let's see how much time I have left for today and see if I can get some more done. Things move along a bit from here.... :)

~~oooOOOooo~~

The Doctor had enough time facing a dark and rocky cliff wall to adequately pique his annoyance. He was not in any way thrilled that he had to rely on the assistance of the Chancellory Guard Rescue Ops to come and save his arse. He was certainly not impressed that he wasn’t simply offered a rope and allowed to head up on his own – and maintain some of that dignity and reputation that he’d carefully crafted over the years. No, he had to be tethered like a loomling to a young Time Lord who was probably fresh out of the Academy and all gung-ho and trying to impress the time Ladies (Read: Rose) with his bulk and life-saving abilities…

…Yeah, well try saving an entire planet. Been there done that, and didn’t need to skite or preen about it.

“Don’t you worry, Sir,” Nespar said with a chuckle. His head was levered up to look at the distance above them, and his focal attention was definitely on the thin rope holding them both safe. “Your mate is in very good hands with Primdar. He’s one of the best aerial and cliff rescue ops members we have. Trained by the Castellan himself.”

The Doctor pursed his lips. Obviously he was projecting his annoyance. Thankfully, this youngster was reading it not for the jealousy, but for the concern toward Rose. “You better trust your own word, young Lord. I shouldn’t need to tell you…”

His chuckle interrupted what was to come next. “It doesn’t need to be said, Sir,” Nespar stated with amusement and understanding in his tone. “Your mate is your universe and if something happens to her, then you have the capability of destroying not only the three of us, but also Gallifrey herself. It’s a threat we all take very seriously – particularly when we are warned by our Lady President of the same.” He paused their upward momentum and tugged on the line as they neared the top edge. “Lady Romana doesn’t just randomly attend rescue operations. Trust me, with her eyes on all of us, we’re not going to make any mistakes.” 

He watched Rose be lifted safely onto the ledge, and waited for his turn to be the attention of the surface rescue worker.“ She’s safe,” he assured the Doctor. “Primdar’s already up top. We’ll start moving a little quicker now, and should be up there with her in a short moment.”

Irritation shifted to urgency, and the Doctor started to scrabble his hands and feet against the wall to assist Nespar in getting them both up top as quickly as possible. The top was reached quickly. No sooner had the Doctor’s feet touched the red grass on the surface, and scrambled to release himself from his rescuer to run and check on Rose.

A shadow in the light of the bright orb set in the middle of the grasses fell upon him. The Doctor slowed the unfastening of the clip attaching him to Nespar slowed as he looked up with a scowl on his face, ready to spar with Brax if necessary. His scowl softened at the sight of a companion who he’d once felt so deeply for that he actually contemplated a future with her.

“Romana,” he said softly.

She saw his urgency for pleasantries to end so that he could check on Rose’s well being, and held up a hand to ask him for pause.

“I wouldn’t be too concerned about Miss Tyler,” she advised him with a smile. “She’s currently berating Castellan Andresaselus for ordering the male Dahrama tranquilized before we send the team down.”

The Doctor shot a look toward the moving shadows around a prone wolf and noted that she was, indeed, standing firm on her toes growling at an otherwise unfazed Andred. He couldn’t hear her exact words, but could see by the twitch in the Time Lord’s cheek and jaw that suggested they were far from kind. Beside them, the young Lord that rescued her was chuckling with amusement as he packed up his line and harnesses.

The Doctor’s eyes were wide, but not necessarily with surprise. He’d discovered on this evening that this little companion of his could be quite the firecracker who wasn’t going to back down no matter how regally or importantly dressed someone was.

Romana was amused herself. “She barely had her feet on the grass before she was yelling at him. Bless, the Castellan is quite used to the fire of humans, and knows not to asset any form of authority on them.”

“Leela,” she Doctor breathed out with fondness. He passed a look toward Romana. “And how is she; and her child?”

“ _Their_ child,” she corrected. “And they are all very well. I’ll send her your regards.”

“Appreciated, thank you.” The Doctor had shifted his attention and was now looking across the way with his eyes locked on the still angry figure flanked by an equally upset Dahrama wolf. “Now if you will excuse me…”

“I will not,” she countered sharply. “Doctor, I’ve spoken with Brax at length about your Rose, and I have to admit my concern for her impact on the coming fixed point.”

“I wouldn’t be too concerned,” he answered with a huff. “I have it in hand.”

“Obviously not,” she shot back. “The fact that you allowed her to put herself in such a perilous position as to have to call in support for retrieval of you both tells me that you don’t have anything in hand except ongoing danger.” She tipped her head warningly when he looked ready to argue. “You forget that I travelled with you for quite some time a few centuries ago. I am fully aware of how well you court … no … worse than that: How you invite _danger_.”

The Doctor’s lips pursed and his cheek lifted in a petulant scowl. “And yet I seem to come through each and every instance of danger accepting my invitation without incident.”

“And which regeneration are you on right now?” she asked in a more rhetorical manner than the Doctor had assumed it was. He readied to mouth the number but stopped when she shook her head. “As is my understanding from Brax, your current companion is just as danger-friendly as you are.”

The Doctor’s brow flicked up and a smile started to cross his lips. “Brax?” he asked with humour. “That’s awfully familiar of you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Referring to my brother as Brax, and not as Cardinal Braxiatel,” he clarified. His borrow waggled teasingly. “Is there something that I should know?”

Her expression shifted to shock, then downshifted to embarrassment and then light sheepishness. “Don’t read too deeply into that, Doctor. There is nothing to assume between the Cardinal and myself.”

He winked. “I don’t buy it for a second,” he said, amused. “He is an arrogant, self-righteous creature, and I offer you my best wishes for you to either tame or survive him. Should you need any advice at all on the best ways of blackmailing into submission, then please reach out.”

Romana smiled and shook her head. “Don’t confuse my familiarity with Brax as anything other than friendship, Doctor. He is one of my closest confidents and someone I trust implicitly.” She stepped forward and turned to stand beside him. She watched Rose Tyler, still angrily stating her case toward Andred, while batting off the first aid attempts of the Rescue team on her arm. 

“There was a time,” she began softly, “where you and I both considered the possibility of entering into a relationship.”

“That wouldn’t have served either of us well,” he suggested without openly admitting or agreeing to it.

“No,” she agreed softly.

“You were too young, and I too jaded.” He didn’t look at her, but he let his hand brush tenderly against hers. “Your destiny was Gallifrey, and mine…” He smiled. “Mine was anywhere but.”

“Still,” she breathed. “The prospect of rebelling against the universe’s plan was quite enchanting.”

“And they say that it’s only the women of Earth that want to marry the renegades.”

She chuckled. “Marrying you, Doctor, that was never an intention.” She looked at him with a glint in her eye. “But a rebellious flight of fancy…”

“Is surprisingly not my way,” he cut in. He shook his head and looked toward Rose, who was finally calming and allowing the medic to administer first aid on her wolf bite. “Random flings and irresponsible partnerships of my hearts…” he let out a breath. “I’m not strong enough for that.”

“It’s stronger to give your hearts to another,” Romana corrected him. “And you wouldn’t have dared offered them to me as you have done her.” She turned to face him directly. “Brax told me that she’s from your future – a mate to your older self.”

He nodded short and shallow. “She is.”

“And to your current self?” She tipped her head to one side. “Has she captured you here as well?”

He blew out a breath through an open mouth and lowered his head. “The promise runs from the future and into the past.”

“And her future holds the key to the Universe’s survival?”

The Doctor inhaled deeply and let out that breath as a huff. “In her past. Such is the way of the Time Lords.” His full attention moved to Romana. His voice shifted toward that of curiosity. “You hold the rod, sash and keys of Rassilon. Your ability to look ahead and interpret the prophecies of the matricians is beyond any other Lord or Lady of Time.”

She smiled only on one side of her mouth. “I won’t tell you what lies ahead, Doctor. There are still several paths ahead that are in flux and can change outcomes.” She gestured toward Rose with a jut of her chin. “What is fixed is your human companion and the importance of her remaining on Gallifrey for the next little while.”

“Little while?” the Doctor queried for clarification. “Brax suggested that it could be quite some time.”

“Marry her,” Romana suggested gently. “Set up a home for her here with you on Gallifrey.”

“That’s an offer for my future to make, not me.” He rubbed at the back of his neck and winced with discomfort. “I have done so, in the ways of our people, in my future.”

“She doesn’t speak enough of our language to accept.” It was question as much as it was fact.

“No.”

“Then teach her,” she answered with a shrug of her delicate shoulders. “You are a brilliant teacher, Doctor, but if you feel this is a task too great, then I can assign a tutor to assist.”

He had to laugh. “You of all people,” he groused on a whisper.

“Meaning what?” she shot back with a sideward glance.

“I would think that after our time together, where you witnessed the society of Time Lords trying to choreograph and control my life and my destiny, that you would refrain from doing the same.” He narrowed his eyes to look toward his brother who was analysing the work of the medics. “As I told my brother earlier today: I will not manipulate her in any way. Her destiny, and the love she has, are for the men who are my future – not me as I am now.”

“I am _suggesting_ , not _demanding_ , Doctor.” She clarified shortly. “Do, or don’t. It’s up to you. Your ability to keep her here on Gallifrey will be far easier on you if you chose to make her your wife. If you push her back toward your future, then she’ll leave.” Her head twisted to stare at him with a glare of warning. “I will make it difficult for you to leave, don’t think that I won’t. Knowing you and experiencing first hand how you move to defy council and bypass their restrictions, I believe I am more able to effectively ground your TARDIS than anyone else.”

“Then do it,” he challenged her. “Because if she asked me right now to take her home to me, then I’d do it without a second thought.” He smirked. “However, the greater risk is her asking to go home to London. She’s not exactly happy with my future right now.”

“So Braxiatel said,” Romana said with a sigh. She softened her voice. “Do your hearts beat for her, Doctor? Now, not in the future, but here and now?”

“I would think that’s obvious,” he huffed. “Not to _her_ , of course, but they do.”

“Then make her believe it,” she urged supportively. “Brax and I, between the two of us, can ensure you both all of the conveniences you’ll need to be happy here.”

The Doctor was quiet for a long moment. While he certainly appreciated the support of one of his closest friends toward his desire to become a mated partner to a young woman from Earth, there was something just a little off about it. He walked around her to stand in between Romana and her line of sight toward Rose, who had now foregone her anger with Andred, and was now laughing and joking about something with the medic.

“Why are you and my brother so eager to push me into marriage?” He moved in closer to take in the look in her eyes. “Specifically marriage to Rose?”

She was undaunted. “I want you to be happy, Doctor. That’s all. It seems as though that young woman would be capable of providing that happiness.”

“Which can be achieved travelling in my TARDIS across time and space together as companions.”

She put her hand on his shoulder. “It’s time that the renegade who’s spent the best part of 800 years running from responsibility finally settles down with a woman who holds his beating hearts…”

He brushed her hand from his shoulder. “Don’t give me that bunch of nonsense,” he grunted. He saw the flicker in her eyes to tell him her reasons ran deep. “Be honest with me, Romana. What’s coming? Why is this so important to you that it’s the first suggestion that either of you make?” His eyes chased hers when she tried to look away from him. “What do you see?”

“I see you _happy_ ,” she tried with a weak smile. “Blissfully so, with a wife and a family. Here on Gallifrey, with a post at the Capitol heading up our medical departments. A doctor, Doctor, like you always wanted to be.”

“You are my dearest friend,” he said with disappointment in his tone. “But I don’t trust you on this – especially not right now. I know you’re hiding something from me,”

“Trust me or don’t,” she hissed out in an exasperated breath. “But you are now officially forbidden from leaving Gallifrey. You can either serve whatever time I decide to ground you happy, or miserable and full of unreasonable mistrust toward all. Your choice.”

“With all due respect,” he muttered. “No one on council has ever given me any reason to offer them my trust.”

“Including me?”

“You know how to hurt me deeper than anyone, Romana. I have to be more guarded around you than with anyone.” He heard his name called from across the clearing and immediately his entire demeanour changed. His face lit up and he smiled. “Be right there, Rose,” he called out cheerfully. He looked back toward Romana with a respectful nod. “It’s been nice to see you again, Lady President. Goodbye and safe travels back to Arcadia.”

The Doctor swiftly ran from her, a small jump in his step as he ran to Rose and scooped her up into a hug that spun both of them in place. 

Romana watched with a crease in her brow and a fold of her arms across her chest. She felt the presence of Braxiatel behind her, but waited until he had pressed his hand into her lower back before relaxing any.

“How much did you tell him?”

His hand shifted across her back to settle on her hip. She leaned back against him, thankful to feel his presence against her mind. “About what, exactly? My entrance into the house of Lungbarrow, or his future destiny that I can’t share with him at any cost?”

He chuckled against her ear. “He’d have a neural implosion to hear about the two of us.”

She turned in toward him, pressing her fingertips to his chest – one set of fingers surrounding each of his beating hearts. “No, Brax. He’d be much happier about it that you think he would.” She lifted her eyes to his. “The inability of the two of you to properly get along, and your penchant for competitiveness against each other is beyond reproach … but he would put all of that rivalry aside to know that you’re happy with your chosen mate.” She smiled. “It was he who put us on the same path to begin with, remember.”

“I’ll tell him myself,” he agreed. “When the time is right.” He looked across at his Brother crouched down and petting the heads of two rather excitable Dahrama wolves. “As for he and his potential bride? Did you push the suggestion?”

“Merely suggested it,” she answered softly. “You know him as well as I do. If you push the issue, even if he did want to do it, he’d work against it just out of spite.” Her face creased. “I hate this, Brax. The games the universe wants to play with him are just cruel.”

“Crueler on her,” he whispered with a look toward Rose. “She’s the one who has to bear the entire burden.” His eyes flicked to the Doctor. “He won’t even feel it.”

“Which will kill him if he ever found out,” she sighed. “And he’ll singlehandedly destroy reality himself in revenge. I know what he’s like.”

“It’s our duty, Romana.” He reminded her. “We have no choice. We can’t warn either of them in advance. Without that sacrifice, we _will_ fall.” His voice actually shuddered on his exhale. “This has to happen. Gallifrey’s survival depends on it.”

“It does,” she agreed. “But I won’t let her go through it alone. You and I, Brax. We need to make sure that her sacrifice isn't in vain and unappreciated by the chapter houses and people of Gallifrey." She shuddered. "I just hope when the dust settles and the truth comes out that he be able to forgive me.”


	11. Sleepy Time Lord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor in his Jim Jams ... and very little else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another one of those chapters that I am anxious about. You know why. I'm tip-toeing into this new realm of :ahem: very warily...
> 
> But I felt it was important to really highlight the differences between men, and how they show their :ahem: affections toward their love.
> 
> This is where we take off and head into the start of the fun stuff. Fluff will ensue from here for just a wee bit.... But just a wee bit....
> 
> I sinceriously hope you guys like this. If not, I'm sorry... I tried....

~~oooOOOooo~~

Morning back at the TARDIS was a relaxed, and very unusual sight for Rose Tyler. 

One thing she’d never seen of the Doctor was a sleep-ruffled version padding about the hallway wearing nothing but a loose-fitting pair of pyjama pants and half on/half off pair of socks hanging off his toes. Come to think of it, despite the bed she shared with him during a future incarnation, she’d never been so lucky as to have seen him freshly woken – or in this case, not quite awake at all.

Last night’s adventure on the cliffs had done a number on the otherwise tireless Time Lord. He’d barely made the walk back from the cliffs to the TARDIS before he’d bid her goodnight and wandered deep into the bowels of the ship to go to bed.

Her, on the other hand, she was wired. Being told about the nature of pet ownership on Gallifrey and how she’d been specifically chosen by a pair of wolves had been eye-opening. Apparently she now owned two really dangerous, but incredibly beautiful wolves. That had shocked and alarmed her. There was no way at all she wanted to be responsible for the domestication of such beautiful animals … Well, okay, she was totally cool with having them as pets because they were stunning creatures – but they were essentially wild beasts that far better suited to the wildlands of Gallifrey than sleeping beside her bed at night. But there they were. Beside her bed. Like a pair of blue-white Malamute dogs. She spent the evening watching these proud animals curled up against each other huffing and snoring in that adorable doggy manner in absolute wonderment.

Her mind ran a mile a minute wondering just how much of the Doctor’s timeline she was changing by being here. In their future, the Doctor didn’t have pets onboard his ship. He never mentioned having any pets. Here they were with two of them: two very large wolves who had a lifespan well into three centuries. That meant that her future with him was at least that far ahead in the future.

Of course she had voiced that concern on their way back to the TARDIS when he’d spoken to her about the Dahrama and their decision to walk beside Rose as her faithful companions.

“Perhaps I simply take all three of you back to future me,” he’d offered with a suggestive smile of hope. One she watched fall when she shook her head and told him that was unlikely.

“How would they do on Earth?” she’d asked him instead.

He didn’t answer that question. Instead he’d chosen to abruptly flip the topic of conversation toward the purple blossoms on the ground and how the Schlenk blooms emitted what he considered to be the best scent in the known universe. 

And so had become another nature hike of learning and instruction, which she did not mind in the slightest. To hear the way the Gallifreyan lyrics fell from his lips was simply divine, and she could listen to it all night. 

These lecturing topics and Gallifreyan language instruction took them all the way back to the TARDIS. Shortly thereafter, the Doctor had yawned widely without covering his mouth with his hand, and suggested that it was time for bed.

That was a few hours ago, now. While the Doctor may well have slept, she really did not. After three hours of wide-eyed non slumber, she finally went for a shower, dressed, and then padded toward the kitchen in order to make herself a tea and perhaps sneak in a pre-breakfast snack. They had, after all, missed dinner

With her new pets following protectively behind her, Rose entered the kitchen and paused at the sight that greeted her.

The Doctor stood in a slouch at the open fridge. One arm lay across the edge of the door, and the other held at the edge of the fridge. He wore a low slung pair of pyjama pants that had fallen down low enough for her to see a deep and defined pair of Venus Dimples just above the waistband. His back was bare, and his curly hair mussed so far beyond recognition that she didn’t know it could ever again be tamed.

She smiled and appraised this look quite carefully as she slowly and quietly walked deeper into the room, knowing full well that this would be the one and only time she would ever be blessed with such a sight. As soon as the Doctor knew he’d been caught out like this, he’d never allow it to happen again.

He murmured low and lyrically toward the contents of the fridge, and as she drew closer, the musky smell of sleep curled around her. He may well have cited Schlenk blossoms as being his favourite smell. This wonderful odour of sleepy Time Lord had now risen to the top of her list. She inhaled deeply to draw in the smell of him and then quickly held that breath when she saw his shoulders tense.

Caught….

“Rose?” his voice, higher than it normally was, asked in a manner that desperately hoped he was mistaken in thinking she had caught him in such a state of undress.

“Good mornin’, Doctor,” she chirped in a happy manner. “Talkin’ to yourself; or are you engaged in a rather important discussion with a piece of celery?”

Still in his hunch in the fridge door, illuminated only by the small yellow light inside, the Doctor gave a husky chuckle. “Carrot, actually,” he corrected her with amusement. “Celery stalks really aren’t good conversationalists.” He straightened up and turned in the still open door of the fridge. He gave her a shrug. “Not enough calories to sustain any reasonable topic.”

The smile on Rose’s face fell, and her face lengthened in awe, as all of the fluid drained from her mouth. The low slung seat of the waistband of his Pyjama pants was in no way higher than where they fell at the back. She could see the thatch of thick curly dark chestnut hair both above the waistband, and through the small V-opening at the front that should have been closed shut by a pair of drawstrings. Either the Doctor had forgotten to tie them, or they’d come apart during sleep. She figured that she should let him know about it, as it did appear to her that the only thing actually holding the trousers at the very edge of dignity was that he had not yet fully freed himself of the – ehm – morning condition that befell most men.

“Uhm, Doctor,” she breathed through a smile. “You might want to, you know.”

“Might want to what, Rose?” He let out a moan and stretched his arms above his head. His thinned torso now put him at complete risk of losing the trousers completely.

She peeped, but the threat of his complete exposure actually held her in place, her eyes on that little open V. “Oh, ehm.” She twirled her finger in the air a moment and then pointed downward toward his crotch. “You’re about to show me what your dad gave you.”

There was a very brief moment of question in his sleepy eyes. That was short lived and they quickly blew wide with shock. He dropped his hands quickly, yanked up his trousers, and hurriedly tied the drawstrings together.

“Very sorry about that,” he muttered behind with a yawn. “Didn’t expect you to be up and about this early.”

“I didn’t expect to see you looking so, well, so…” She chuckled. “In your jammies looking like you’ve been thoroughly shagged within an inch of your life.” She circled her finger toward her hair. “All messy and untamed.”

He lifted his eyes to look at the two curls of his fringe and then lifted his hands to smooth out the rest of his head. He knew it would be an impossible task, taming this mane took considerable effort and hair products to achieve. He noted her expression of surprise, and even a pinking at the tips of her ears and across her cheeks, and looked at her with wariness.

“Rose,” he began, “Forgive me for noting this, but you do appear to be somewhat surprised by my attire.”

She licked at her lip and shrugged. “Yeah, I am.” She pursed her lips. “I guess.”

“You’re surely not saying that you’ve never seen me like this before,” he remarked with his own level of surprise. “I saw that memory, Rose. You can’t deny that you’ve seen me first thing in the morning.”

She leaned up against the breakfast counter. She tucked her hair behind her ear and offered him a very sheepish smile. “Actually, I can.” 

His brows shot up into his hairline.

“Future you,” she clarified. “I mean the one who I shared the – ehm – intimacy with. When we did share a bed, we didn’t really wake up together.” She tipped one shoulder up to her ear and looked to the floor. “I mean, yeah, we did snuggle after, but he never stayed. He really didn’t sleep like you do. Said that he didn’t have to…”

He nodded with awareness. “It’s an evolutionary trait – physiology for survival if you will.” He tried to find a pocket in the hip of his pyjama pants to thrust his hand in there, and actually struggled for positioning of that hand when he realised there weren’t any. “When we travel – as we travel in the way we do throughout time and space – our bodies adapt to not require sleeping as often as we do here in Gallifrey. Losing even a short moment to sleep can result in a disruption of the timelines if we aren’t closely monitoring them – particularly when we have a rather inquisitive human as our companion.” He gave her a tender smile. The smile then shifted to his lecturing expression. “So that said: When I am off Gallifrey, I have a cycle that requires very little sleep. Here on Gallifrey, I sleep. Like you do. As much as you do in fact.”

“I see,” she breathed out with understanding. “Makes sense.” Her eyes lifted to his. “So then you’ll understand why seein’ you like this: all sleepy and relaxed in your jim jams, is a new sight for me.”

He opened his arms and gave her a cheeky wink. “You like?”

“I think I can get used to it.”

A smile broke out across his face and he dared take a step toward her, letting the fridge door close being him with a soft padding sound. “Get used to it, Rose? What are you saying?”

She inhaled deep as the scent of him drew closer. She gulped and lifted her eyes to keep her gaze in line with his “I’m not sayin’ what you’re thinkin’, Doctor, so behave.”

He moved yet closer. Another step and he was within inches of her. He loomed down at her and let his voice take on a husky tone. “You really don’t know what I’m thinking, Rose,” he teased softly with a lick at his lip. “But there are several options in mind.”

She peeped and swallowed thickly. “Uh-huh?”

He then backed off abruptly to walk around her. “Well, as per Romana’s instructions, we are grounded here on Gallifrey for the next little while. This means that bumping into each other first thing in the morning is a very high probablility. I’m home, and I do like to be comfortable when I am here. This means pyjamas at night, and more often than not only the bottom half.” He swept his hand in the air ahead of her in a gesture toward her current attire of short sleeper shorts and a lose camisole with a bralette underneath. “As do you, it appears.”

“I, err,” she began as her arms folded across her chest as though to cover up. “I really wasn’t expectin’ you to be walking around at this time.”

“Nor I you,” he offered with a shrug. His attention then shifted to curiosity. “And just why is it you are up, Rose. I would think that after the events of this evening, you’d be out like a light.”

She inhaled a deep breath. “Couldn’t sleep,” she admitted. “And I was feeling peckish, we missed dinner an’ all.”

“I hear you,” he agreed with a scratch of his head. “While I did get a good couple of hours in, it wasn’t anywhere near enough.” He flicked his head to the cupboard. “Need me to pull something together for you? We haven’t been to the market recently, so there isn’t much. But I’m sure we can MacGyver something.”

She shook her head. “It’s okay, Doctor. I should probably try to go back to bed. We can go out in the morning and pick something up, if you like.” She smiled. “Gotto be better than scraps and leftovers, right?”

His head was angled to one side and his eyes narrowed in focus of her. “You do need sleep,” he reminded her. “Are you actually going to be able to manage it?”

“Should do,” she answered with a shrug. She scratched at the ears of her male Dahrama. “Maybe I’ll see if these two might want to jump onto the bed with me instead of snuggling up on the floor…”

There was a very short moment of indecision in his eyes. It cleared quickly when he had come to what he felt was an appropriate choice. He leaned forward and took her hand in his. “Come with me,” he urged softly.

“Come where?”

He tugged lightly on her hand and coaxed her into a walk with him. “Just come with me. I think I have the answer for both of us on this quandary of how in Arcadia either of us will get to sleep tonight.”

She followed curiously behind him for a few steps, and then sped up to walk beside him instead. She looked back to make sure that the wolves were following – which they were. Their expressions showed as much curiosity as she felt. “What did you have in mind?” 

“You’ll see,” he promised her in a tender tone as he walked them both deep into the corridors of the TARDIS. They strode past her bedroom and continued around three more corners before he stopped in front of an ornate door gilded in gold Gallifreyan symbols.

“My name,” he said gently, and then read the words out aloud in his mother tongue.

Her initial though should have been to repeat after him, but her mind was more focused on what would be behind a door that had his name carved into it. She looked up at him warily. “Doctor? Is this your bedroom?”

He nodded as he pressed his hand into the door and it opened with a light click and hiss. “Don’t tell me I’ve never brought you here before, either.”

“Well,” she began unsurely. “No. When he and I came together, it was usually outside the TARDIS. If we did find ourselves feeling, well, frisky, it was when we were in the library, or kitchen, or the control room…”

“Anywhere except the comfort of our beds,” he completed with a sigh if disappointment in himself. “I’m sorry, Rose. I really should have given you better than that.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she whispered. “I never was. You. Him. When the mood took him, and it was usually random – he’d.” She sighed with remembrance. “He was just so passionate. It was like, waitin’ to find a bedroom might ruin it all, you know? Like if he let go of me for just a sec, I’d be gone.”

“An irrational need,” the Doctor surmised. He nodded with understanding and tugged on her hand to draw her into his bedroom. He felt resistance and looked back to her, speaking her name in question.

“Doctor,” she warned. “I’m not havin’ sex with you.”

His brows lifted. “I’m sorry, what?”

He jutted her chin toward the bed. “If you’re brinin’ me here thinking that a quick round under the sheets is your answer to the both of us going to sleep, then no. Think of something else.

He took note of the fact that she didn’t shake her hand free of his when she so vehemently rebuffed what she though he was aiming for this evening. That gave him hope that she wasn’t about to flee.

“That’s not what I had in mind,” he assured her. “That thought didn’t even cross my mind until you brought it up.” He looked at his bed with want, and then back to her when he finally registered how this looked and how she must have taken his desire to take her to his room. “But I can see how you drew that conclusion.”

“So what were you thinking?” Her voice was soft, but it peeped when the two wolves squeezed in between them and then launched excitedly into the room. For a moment, they both leapt on the unmade bed, jumped back to the floor, jumped back into the bed again and snuffled in the bedclothes. “Whatever it was,” she said with a chuckle. “The kids might have quashed your plans.”

“Both of you,” he growled sharply in English before shifting to the huffs and growls better understood by them. They stopped immediately, looked at each other, and then both jumped down to the floor. They nuzzled each other and then both lay down together, curled into one large blue-white ball of fur.

“That’s better,” the Doctor groused. He looked back toward Rose and smiled as he tugged lightly on her hand. “Come on in,” he urged. “I swear to you that there was nothing more nefarious on my mind this evening than to simply hold you until morning.”

She followed in behind him, gasping when the door schnicked closed behind them. “You just want to hold me? That’s it? Nothing else?”

He got as far as the bed and turned to face her. He released her hand and then cupped her face tenderly. “I almost lost you tonight,” he admitted gravely. He lowered his forehead to hers and held them together, his eyes closed and his voice breathy. “For a moment I honestly believed that you were gone, and there was nothing I could do to save you.”

“But you did,” she whispered in reply, focusing her gaze on the dark arc of lashes underneath his closed eye. “You saved me, Doctor. I’m right here.”

His eyes flashed open and locked on hers. Dusty blue locked on swirling amber and brown. Words in Gallifreyan passed through his lips. Then English followed. “You weren’t when I slept, Rose. You weren’t when I woke up terrified I’d failed you.”

She pulled back from him and ran her hands over his chest as she walked around him to the bed. She sat down on the mattress and held out her hand to him. “I’m here now, Doctor.”

His smile was grateful. His shoulders dropped in relief. With a breath of gratitude, he crawled onto the bed toward the other side, and lay down on the mattress. The pillow was quickly tucked under his head and he opened his arm to invite her to come to him. “Just to sleep,” he promised her as his tired eyes closed. “That’s all.”

Well, how could she resist that? This whole room smelled of him and of his attempts to sleep. The sheets had cooled off to chilly, but the blanket looked warm. That open arm was very inviting. She quickly moved to lay at his side and sighed happily when his arm not only fell lightly upon her, but also drew the duvet across them too.

“G’Night, Rose,” he slurred sleepily as he wriggled a little bit closer and tucked her firmly up against his chest. 

His cool breath puffed against her neck and shoulder, and his thumping double-heart beat lightly against her back. The coolness of him, so very cool against her heated skin, it seemed to reach down deep inside of her, holding her closer to him than their physical bodies could possibly manage.

Her mind quickly moved back in time – her time, the future for him – and reminded her of a time when closeness like this came easily between them. The security of his hold, and the unspoken promise that he’d be there to have and to hold her forever more … that security that fled after a fiery explosion of regeneration. She missed this. She missed _him_.

She couldn’t leave it without a voice for a moment longer. “Doctor?” she queried softly, hoping he wasn’t yet asleep.

His answer was a soft pair of breaths against her shoulder. “Yes, Rose?” 

“I miss you,” she admitted sadly.

“I’m right here,” he assured her softly.

“I miss _you_ ,” she clarified. “Future you.”

“Again,” he said softly. “Right here, Rose.”

“Are you really, though?” she pressed on, trying desperately to keep the emotion of loss from her voice.

“I am the past, I am the future,” he muttered. “I’m every me from number one to thirteen.” He inhaled a sigh. “Now please. Sleep.”

She rolled in his arms to face him. Sleep wasn’t really going to come to her any time soon, and she figured if he was going to invite her into his bed, then he was going to get as much – or as little – sleep as she was. She watched his expression shift in the darkened small space between them. His eyes weren’t yet open, but she could tell that his sleepiness was giving way to wakefulness.

“Doctor,” she urged with a quiet voice. “Look at me, please?”

Those sleepy blue eyes opened. “What’s wrong?” His pupils were so dilated that she could barely see a hint of blue, and she waited until they focused before pressing on.

“I nearly died tonight,” she murmured. 

“But you didn’t.”

“Because you saved me.”

The hand he held over her waist moved so that he could tough her face. “And I always will.”

“I-I love you,” she blurted out. “Future you,” she clarified. “And future _future_ you.”

Hope seemed to rise a little in his chest between his hearts. He licked at the roof of his suddenly dry mouth. “And _past_ me?”

“ _Present_ you,” she corrected with a smile.

“Present me,” he agreed with his eyes sobering and waking fast. “How do you feel about the me as I am right now?”

She shifted quickly forward and captured his lips with hers. Her move obviously startled him and made him gasp, which she stole within her own inhale as she used the part between his lips to deepen their connection. His arms snapped tightly around her waist in response and his head angled further to one side in an effort to further deepen their kiss. Rose grabbed at the waistband of his pyjama pants and awkwardly pushed and twisted them in an attempt to draw them down over his hips.

“I – I think you’re amazin’,” she panted against his mouth.

He claimed her mouth hard for a long second in response, and then pulled back sharply. “Do you think you can love me?” he questioned as he lowered his hands to help her remove his trousers.

She whimpered a high sigh when he kicked the trousers free from his ankles and then swiftly moved moved his hand to her lower back and pulled her firmly up against him.

“Can you?” he pleaded with a rock of his hips into hers. Shifting his hand around her backside to settle against her thigh. With a firm flex of his arm, he had her thigh hooked over his hip. He rocked again, rolling partway over her. “Can your heart beat for me like mine do for you?”

Her head lifted back into the pillow, her mouth gaping wide so that her breath could escape swiftly and return as a gulp. “Yes, Doctor,” she panted out. “Yes.”

He purred Gallifreyan words against her neck as he shifted his hand to slide down the back of her shorts and pants. Moving back from her only enough to allow the material to shift in between them, he shoved the material over her hips, to her knees, and then hooked it with his foot to draw them off completely. Now naked from the waist down, he rolled them both together and settled his hips between her thighs.

He took a short moment to look into her face, that was now turned sideways into her pillow, and dropped his mouth to nip lightly at her jaw. “Stop me,” he huffed against her throat as he rocked his hips against hers, sliding himself wholly along her length. “Because I’m not able to stop myself.”

“Don’t stop,” she pitched a high whine. 

“But the rules,” he growled out, his hips rocking a more urgent rhythm against her. He lifted high on his arms and dropped his head low into his shoulders as he continued to move against her. With her gasping whimper, he lifted his head high and moaned out a loud series of sounds, each syllable times with the desperate thrust of his hips.

“To Hell with the rules,” she growled on a high-pitched tone. “No more rules.” Another phrase, one in very broken Gallifreyan passed through her lips next. 

The Doctor felt his arms falter as her broken attempt at his language, thick with London-English accent, cut through the space between them. He wondered if she knew what she was saying, or if she was merely repeating what she’d heard so many times before from his elder self….

…It was probably the dirtiest phrase a Gallifreyan could ever mutter – and one never spoken outside the bedroom.

With a long howl that would rival any such howls that the two wolves on the floor beside their bed could cry out, the Doctor drove deep and forward, sheathing himself completely inside her.

The sudden coolness of him, and of an unfamiliar length and breadth she hadn’t been anticipating, Rose found herself clutching hard at the bedsheets and pushing herself up the bed just a little. Not so much for escape, but to seek a moment to gather her wits.

He paused, but only for a moment to gather his own wits at her blaring heat surrounding him. She said his name, though, the one he gave himself, and immediately he started to rock and move with long bold strokes that shifted more than just his hips. His entire body moved along her, each long stroke eliciting a new and more deeply hollered cry of passion that the one before it.

Rose battled to keep her eyes on the man moving above her. Each stroke of him was like an icy blast of sheer thrill and ecstasy, and all she wanted to do was close her eyes and become completely lost in his words, his moans, and the way he felt inside her. Her eyes fought her, but she kept her eyes on him, focused on the contorting expressions of arousal, passion, and the chase for completion. He lifted up again onto his arms, towering over her, hanging low into his shoulders as he maintained a perfect rocking rhythm against her.

His words shifted between his language and hers, both of them crying out words of promise and adoration.

And watching him. Watching that beautiful, rouguish, and almost boyish face shift and move and crease as he succumbed completely to her, drove her toward completion far quicker than she had wanted. She tried to stave off the climax, tried hard to shift and find position underneath him that would let it ebb away to come back later. But it was to no avail. He held her hip with his hand, pressed himself completely against her with every forward thrust. He coaxed her to finish with movements, and with his voice, and in a moment she shattered completely, howling out his name along with that of her deity, and completely arched off the bed underneath him.

His arm quickly swept underneath her back and he pulled her chest into his face. He rocked her through the entirety of her completion, keeping her as high as he could, until she finally fell back down underneath him, panting, and holding at her chest to try catch her breath.

Passion fled the man at that moment. His fervor was replaced by gentle licks and kissed, on her shoulders, against the high rise of her breast, on her nose, and finally a tender catch of her lips with his. 

She could barely catch her breath to keep up with the roll of his mouth against hers. And as she struggled, he merely chuckled. He pressed a lone, chaste, and gentle kiss against her swollen bottom lip, and then pulled himself from her. He rolled off to the side and fell onto his back at her side. 

He was in no way as breathless as she was, but he was certainly content. He rolled his head on the pillow and smiled as he let his hand search out hers, and then capture it. He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed lightly at her knuckles.

“You are,” he whispered with awe. “Simply breathtaking.”

Her breath was still shortened. “I would say,” she gulped back, “That you’re the one who took … my breath.”

He laughed and wriggled himself beside her. With gentle coaxing, he guided her lo lay on her side and snuggled himself up against her back. His lips traced her shoulder in a single line toward her ear. “Sleep, my Hearts,” he said tenderly. “And tomorrow you get to see me again in all my morning glory.”

She nestled herself against him and let out a very contented sigh. His hearts against hr back, his cold skin cooling hers. The hum of the TARDIS in her ears, and the light snuffling of the two wolves on the floor beside them…

…and all at once, for the first time since his regeneration, Rose Tyler felt she was home. Sure he was different that both of the men in her past. So different to the man he would become in his future. Different, but still very much the same. Her first Doctor was a quiet lover, a focused lover, a man who wanted control and wielded it like a sword. Her second Doctor, a scared and timid man who would rather run that try and touch her. And now this one: wild, loud, and so ready to completely give in and lose control.

One thing that made them all the same to her: She loved him. She loved him with everything she had inside her. As long as she was with him, then she was home – and she never wanted to leave again.

“Doctor?” she said quietly, knowing she was about to interrupt his attempt at slumber yet again.

He chuckled against her shoulder blade. “Yes, Rose?”

“Can I stay with you a while longer?” she asked, ending her question with an apprehensive bite at her bottom lip.

He moved against her, obviously content with her request. “Of course, Rose. I would want nothing more.”

She closed her eyes and felt herself finally relax. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“Rose?”

She hummed to let him know she was listening.

“How long did you want to stay with me?”

She inhaled a deep breath and pulled his arm across her like he was – indeed – a Time Lord blanket.

“Forever.”


	12. Anniversary Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 6 months post nookie ... the Doctor has a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincere apologies for no chapter yesterday. I did write it. It was a whole whopping 5'700 words long ... and then I read it, and I absolutely hated it. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
> 
> I scrapped it all and started all over again with something vastly different than the original. I'm still not entirely thrilled, but it'll do for now. :)
> 
> I very much hope you like!
> 
> Thank you again for all of your wonderful, and supportive comments. I absolutely love hearing from you!!

~~oooOOOooo~~

A spray of wild black birds burst exploded like a cloud out of the silver leaves of a tall Cadonwood tree. Their shrill and alarmed cries matched the fervor of shrill and excited squeal from the forest floor below. It wasn’t the cheer of excitement that startled the flock, however, it was the loud, echoing howls of two large Dahrama wolves that followed in it’s wake.

Those crafty hunters that could climb a tree as easily as walking up the trunk, favoured the meat of a trunkike over the woprats and slender-throated Selputo crane. None of this flock would take any chance that they’d become their meal today, and so en masse they took to the skies above. Their broad wings with a length that far exceeded the length of their bodies, sent shadows racing across the ground, and beat a sound that was as whispy as it was thunderous.

Tugged by the hand held by the Doctor, and running at a rapid rate, Rose lifted her head with a gaped mouth of awe at the living cloud overhead. “Oh, wow,” she panted out with wonder.

“Trunkike,” the Doctor called out, not slowing their run. “They flock in tight formation when in flight and have been known to put the countryside in complete darkness when they take off as a group.” He looked back to the wolves at their heels with a toothy grin. The two wolves were thrilled to be at full run, both of them yapping, and howling as they leapt over and knocked against each other in excitement. “Looks like the kids may have scared them,” he offered with a laugh. “They are a Dahrama’s favourite snack.”

Although rushing with thrill and being tugged by the Doctor, Rose was able to narrow a glare of warning toward the two wolves. “Don’t you even think about it.”

“Oh,” he laughed. “I guarantee you they’re _thinking_ about it.” He held her hand tighter. “Now chop chop, Rose Tyler.”

Rose pealed with delight and excitement as they ran across the unkempt red grasses that rose in and around the rocks and sand that lined the edge of a creek. “Where are we goin’, Doctor?”

He panted out a pair of secretive, yet excited breaths. There was a smile on his face that defied the man’s age and wisdom. He was like a young boy ready to open gifts on Christmas morning. He turned to face her, skipping a sideward stride to keep pace. “It’s a surprise, Rose. You’ll love it. I promise you.” He kept his stride but pulled her in against him in an excited hug that lifted her from the ground and spun her around. He placed her feet back on the ground, not allowing her to gather her wits and her balance before tugging her back again.

The terrain changed just slightly as what looked to Rose like a fruit orchard appeared in the distance. The banks of the creek started to rise into a jagged edge, and the Doctor steered them safely into the crystal waters that lapped gently on the rocky bottom. They ran with a spray of water in their wake, each droplet shining as diamonds in the heavy orange sunlight above them. Snakes hissed, and birds chirped angrily as they passed. The two wolves pranced and pounced caught up in the excitement of their mistress, howling to the skies and sharing their own language of thrill.

“Doctor,” Rose panted exhaustedly. “Doctor, please. Gimme a mo’, please? I’m not fitted with a respiratory bypass like you are.”

She was becoming exhausted by the run. Fit though she was from years of running with the mad man in a box, this was becoming a little too long of a run even for her.

“We’re almost there!” the Doctor cheered. “Just a little bit further now.”

“Will it be there in ten minutes?” she queried, wondering just why it was he was so insistent that they get there as soon as possible.

He began to slow, tugged backward by his waning companion. “Well. Yes,” he drawled with a small measure of disappointment. “It will be.”

“Then please, can we stop for a minute?” she pressed on. “Unless you wan’ me to have a heart attack and die before we get there…”

He stopped immediately, tugging her to as an abrupt a halt as him. He carefully checked her eyes, the pallor of her skin, and then stooped to scoop her up into a hold against his chest. “I most certainly do not want that,” he vowed as he tucked her head underneath his chin and began a far more slower walk.

Rose didn’t ordinarily like being held like a child in this manner – she was no damsel in distress – but in this instance, she was happy to he held and carried so she could catch her breath. She held her ear against his chest to listen to the thumping of his two hearts against her ear and found herself calming very quickly.

“Make sure you don’t strain yourself,” she warned him softly. “I’m not as strong as you, so I don’t know if I can carry you.” A yap of agreement from below made her giggle.

The Doctor merely sighed as he listened to the panting of the young female. “Your daughter has offered to let you tie me to her and she’ll drag me the rest of the way if it comes to that.”

Rose dropped her hand to scratch the wolf’s head. “Awww. Aren’t you a sweet little girl?”

“Dahramas across Gallifrey are covering their faces with their paws and shaking their heads.” He sniffed. There was a playful nip at his ankles, and the Doctor stumbled with a failed attempt at escape. “ _Sweet_ indeed,” he scoffed as he awkwardly jostled the woman in his arms in yet another failed attempt. 

Rose touched her feet to the ground and stumbled to one side. She held at her belly and let out a raucous laugh – a sound of pure hysterics. The Doctor tried to remain stoic and display a sense of pure indignance toward the two ladies in his life having so much fun at his expense, but Rose’s laughter was contagious. He quickly fell into the same fit of amusement.

He settled himself just slightly and moved in close to her. Lifting his hands to cup her face, he traced her tears with his eyes and then drew their heads together. Their brows touched and he kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose. “You, my dear Rose…”

“Yes, Doctor?” she said with a smile of urging for him to continue. With her forehead still pressed against his, she stepped in a little closer and settled her hands on his hips. With tender movements, she shifted her hands around his hips and curled them toward his backside.

The Doctor licked his lip as he felt her pull him yet closer. Propriety nearly fled him at that moment, and it took effort not to seek out a good sized tree trunk to let her know without words just exactly what she was capable of doing to him.

…Brax was waiting for them. Brax was not known for being the most patient of men.

…But then again, neither was _he_.

He angled his head to one side to completely capture her mouth in a single swoop and walked them toward the deeper waters of the creek. His lips chased hers when she pushed her hands against his chest and separated their mouths.

“Rose?”

“I thought we were in a hurry?”

His mouth chased hers again, but the little minx was far too savvy to be caught by Time Lord lips. “I can always make time for this, Rose. For us. For making love to you.”

“Oh make me throw up in my mouth, swallow it, and then throw it up again,” Braxiatel’s voice snarled in from the 1-foot high creek edge to their side. Although slightly hostile in tone, there was a certain measure of amusement hidden in his words.

The Doctor grunted out in faux annoyance and looked over his shoulder toward his brother. “I thought I said we’d meet you there?”

“You did,” he answered with a shrug. He gave Rose a tip of his head in greeting. “Hello, Rose. Good to see you again.”

“Hi Brax,” she answered with a waggle in her fingers as a wave.

Braxiatel looked back toward his brother with a somewhat tired expression. “And while, yes, we did agree that we would meet at the orchard at a very specific time, your incessant and habitual tardiness alerted me that I may have to move to intervene in some way, for some reason…” He huffed. “By Rassilon, Thete. This urge you have to mate with your beloved puts you at the same level of the beasts that walk at your feet.” He looked down toward the wolves, who were currently backed down on their hunches and snarling. “I am not scared of you, so stop it.”

The Doctor shrugged. “Don’t know it until you’ve tried it for yourself, Brax.” He remarked with a smile as he shifted Rose to his side with his arm hooked around her waist. “It truly is a remarkable experience to engage in.”

“And don’t be comparin’ it to the animals,” Rose added indignantly. “The animals mate to procreate, the Doctor’n me aren’t anywhere close to wantin’ that just now.”

“Well that’s not completely accurate,” the Doctor ventured, to the stunned surprise of Rose, but the amusement of Brax.

Rose stilled. This was a very unexpected revelation. Did she want to begin to consider anything like that with him? “A-and just what do you mean, Doctor?”

Braxiatel chuckled when the Doctor looked at him with wide eyes at realizing he just may have given a very wrong impression with his correction. He held up his hands. “I’m going to let you handle this one, Thete.” He put his hand out ahead of them in an invitation for them to begin to walk a very overgrown path away from the creek. “And do it while we walk, please. I do have other things that I need to attend to today, so if you _don’t_ mind.”

The Doctor cleared his throat.

Braxietel smirked. “This will be fun…”

Rose looked worried. Braxiatel’s amusement wasn’t helping her any. “Doctor, are you sayin’ that you want,,, you know… with me?”

“In time, Hearts,” he answered with a kiss at the side of her head. “But not right now. You need to agree to marriage, first.” He gestured toward the wolves, walking very closely together at their side. “Your comment that the kids mate only for conception is inaccurate. They do actually mate recreationally in much the same manner as the rest of us do. Actually, with pretty much the same frequency as we all do.”

“Don’t put me in your category,” Braxiatel mumbled. “Reprehensible activity that it is.”

“Again,” the Doctor warned him. “Don’t knock it if you haven’t tried it.”

Braxietel shrugged. “Well if it isn’t for procreative activities, then you aren’t really experiencing the true wonder of the act.” He looked at his brother with a smirk. “And as I don’t yet wish to sire a child, I see no point in wasting my valuable time experiencing it only half way.”

“I get wonder enough,” the Doctor groused through a curled lip of both annoyance and reluctance to carry on this conversation. “Thank you, Brax.”

“It could be better.”

Rose was officially confused. She looked up at her curl-lipped lover, then across to his brother who held the opposite emotion on his face. “I’m not followin’.”

“Nothing for you to follow,” the Doctor said softly. “This painful individual is only trying to get a rise out of you. Ignore him. Please.” He lifted his eyes to the sky. “Admittedly that is easier said than done. Rassilon knows I try.”

“Who is the Rassilon that you keep referencing?” Rose asked

“A Time Lord,” the Doctor offered with a shrug. 

“More than just a Time Lord.” Braxiatel corrected incredulously. “He was – alongside Omega and the Other, the founder of our society: The First Time Lord. The single greatest figure in Gallifreyan History!” He glared toward his brother. “How have you not spoken to Rose about him?”

“The Doctor shrugged. “Easy. The topic’s never come up before now.”

“And now that it has,” he admonished indignantly. “You will. An I will be more than pleased to correct any mistakes.”

The Doctor looked toward his brother. He held that look a moment, and then turned his head to look at Rose with a glint in his eye and a sly smile on his face. “Rassilon,” the Doctor began with a wink. “Revered by some members of society as he greatest of all Time Lords and the one who singlehanded created our rather pompous and arrogant, and quite frankly boring, civilisation.”

“Thete,” Brax warned along a breath.

“However, those Time Lords with actual brains inside their heads know Rassilon to be a corrupt megalomaniac, who in a fit of jealousy over his popularity amongst my people, tried murdering his best friend Omega in order to steal the Hand of Omega, which he would then use to induce a supernova and give Gallifreyans the ability to travel though time…”

Braxiatel interrupted him with a moan of annoyance. “My brother the conspiracy theorist,” he growled. “That is not at all accurate to the texts within my collection.”

“Well, perhaps if your collection contained factual manuscripts instead of romance novels and pretty little trinkets, you’d have a much clearer image of old Rassilon.” He huffed. “If he were ever to be resurrected, Brax, it would lead to the absolute destruction of Gallifrey, and everything her children have achieved.”

“Resurrection is impossible,” Braxiatel snarled. “It’s never been achieved in the entire history of our people. Rassilon is dead and in his tomb.”

The Doctor shook his head. “And in the Matrix of the Time Lords,” he added. “Where he is still wielding his wants and desires upon society.” He flicked up a finger of warning. “Don’t you assume for a moment that resurrection isn’t part of his grand scheme of things.”

“You talk nonsense,” Brax snarled. “You speak of fantasy and impossibility. He wields no power in death. How can you spread misinformation and rumour in this manner? You blasphemous fool.”

“I just know,” he breathed out cryptically. 

Rose watched the exchange between brothers with interest. When there was a break to interject, she did so with curiosity. “But you say his name like a deity,” she reminded him. “As we on Earth use the name of God.”

“As a sign of disrespect,” the Doctor answered with a shrug. “Using his name in vain and all that.”

“And yet, the rest of us use it as a mark of respect and wonder toward his gifts to our creation.”

“Aaaand on that note,” Rose sang out. “Let’s end the conversation. Mum always told me that we should never talk about politics or religion in pleasant company, so let’s not. Looks like you two might start a war about it.”

“Your mother is a smart woman,” the Doctor said with a kiss on her temple.

That made Rose chuckle. “You don’t think so in your future,” she laughed. “You and her, you fight like cats and dogs.”

Now it was Braxiatel’s turn to laugh. “You’ve met her mother?!” 

The Doctor’s eyes flashed wide in horror. Rose just shrugged. “Met her plenty of times, actually. First time they met, she tried the pull on him. Then later she slapped him …” She giggled. “Now she hugs and kisses him.”

Braxiatel’s laugh rang out across the grasses. “That is absolutely brilliant. The best thing I’ve heard in a long while.” He wiped at a non existent tear in the corner of his eye. “Wait until I tell Romana that one! She will be in hysterics.”

The Doctor scowled a moment. His face then lengthened out into a curious expression. “Yes, and about Romana. Do explain to me your relations toward her.”

“That would be none of your concern, Thete,” Braxiatel muttered in quickly. 

“I do beg to differ.”

“I totally ship it,” Rose murmured cheekily under her breath.

“I’m sorry, what?” the Doctor asked with high brows.

Rose opened her mouth to clarify, but sucked those words deep inside her chest when they broke through the treelines and came across a sight that completely shattered everything inside her chest in that very longing manner one has when presented with sheer beauty.

“Oh my God,” she breathed out in awe.

Oh my God indeed. The break in the trees and grasses opened up to a large and perfectly manicured wooded area broken just off centre by a babbling creek whose waters were clear and crystalline. Those clear waters ran helplessly over blue-lavender coloured stones and pebbles which faded into grey the further they were from the water. Red grass, clipped low but not short, wove around the edge of the creek spreading out and rushing partway up the white and crimson barked trunks of an orchard of full and vibrant fruit-bearing trees. The leaves were not as silver as the foliage of the mighty cadonwood trees at the edge of the property, but dark like aluminum, variegated with the crimson tones in the trunk.

Rose broke from the Doctor and surged forward to run her hand along the trunk of one tree. Her exhales were filled with whimpering sighs of astonishment as she lifted her hands up to cradle a bulbous pear-shaped fruit so large that it took both hands to hold it. She dared not pluck it from the tree, but instead let her thumbs trace along the leather-feel surface.

“This is a magnolia,” the Doctor murmured into her ear in English before switching into its Gallifreyan pronounciation. He waited for her to repeat the word and slid his arms around her from behind. He slid his hands up along her arms and cupped his hands over hers on the fruit. “Nothing like the magnolia trees on Earth, of course. There is no relation between the two. These are native to Mount Perdition in Southern Gallifrey, but have since expanded their range across all of the forested lands. Cultivation and farming…”

She nestled back against his chest and repeated the Gallifreyan pronunciation for the fruit.

“Perfect,” he whispered against her temple. He then flexed his hands over hers, and plucked the fruit from the tree. “Perfectly edible, and absolutely delicious. I used to sneak into the orchards as a loomling and snaffle the ripest fruits.”

“Theif,” Brax muttered with amusement. 

“Connoisseur,” he corrected with a chuckle. He still cupped Rose’s hands around the fruit, and squeezed quickly, popping the skin of the fruit and exposing the amber-coloured meat of the fruit inside. “I can’t describe the flavour to you, Rose. You’ll have to try it for yourself. Expect to get messy, it’s as much juice as substance in there.”

His arms were still around her and his chest pressed up against her back, and she relaxed into him as she dropped her head forward to taste the fruit. The texture was quite similar to mango or peach, but the taste was nothing like either. There would be no way that she could compare the flavour, except to say that it had a stone-fruit quality to it. The juice was plentiful, as the Doctor had warned, and so she couldn’t help but make a wet sucking sound as she drew it in.

“Oh my God, Doctor,” she purred as she lifted her head and savoured this new flavour. “That’s amazin’.”

His arms tightened around her, and he dipped his head to have a taste himself. He licked his lips and hummed appreciatively. “It is, isn’t it?”

She stepped away from him and grinned, holding the fruit close to her. “This would be amazin’ in a pie, don’t you think?”

He frowned, looked at his brother who wore a similar expression of surprise, and then back to Rose. “As a whar? A pie? You would suggest wrapping it in pastry and cooking it?”

Braxiatel shook his head, a look of disgust on his face. “That would destroy the purity of its favour.” He flicked his hand. “You Humans and your need to tamper with what nature provides you with.” He pointed toward the fruit. “That’s perfection wrapped in a protective skin, you don’t do anything other than eat it straight from the tree.”

She hummed a chuckle. “Don’t knock it, Brax…”

He held up a hand. “I won’t try it, so don’t bother finishing that thought.” He gestured toward the north end of the orchard. “Now if you will follow me. Your mate has a surprise for his beloved on this, your six month anniversary of … of what was it, Thete?”

“I’m still not fully on board with this mate thing,” Rose murmured at the same time that the Doctor answered his brother.

“Six month anniversary of our first coupling,” he said with a grin. “In this timeline, of course.”

“Which then makes you – you and Thete – mates, Rose.” Braxiatel said with a sigh. “Please do keep up with Gallifreyan mating protocols.” He gave her a steeled look. “Mates, mate. You have mated, so therefore you and my brother – Rassilon help you for your foolish decision to embark on such with a cretin like him – are _mates_.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “You make it sound so damn business-like and unfeeling.”

The Doctor took her sticky juice-stained hand in his. “Ignore his ignorance, Rose. No woman would offer her timeline to him to become mates, so he’s bitter.”

“Yes,” Braxietel drawled with a roll in his eyes. “That’s it exactly, Thete. No respectable Gallifreyan maiden will take this bitter old soul as her mate. How very observant and clever of you.”

“I think Romana has a bit of an eye for you,” Rose offered. “And she’s very lovely.”

The Doctor snorted. “Romana’s far too intelligent to be caught up with this one.”

“Indeed,” Braxiatel sighed. He finally led them to the very top of the orchard and toward a small wooden home that looked wrapped in brilliant white and grey trunked trees and rustling silver leaves. “Here we are.”

Rose’s eyes widened at the quaint little home. Like a fairy tail, this home was deep inside the trees, a small pebbled path leading to the front door with flower beds either side. Oh, she could have drawn it herself as a child with how very simple it looked on the outside: A door in the centre flanked by two large square windows with a flower box underneath. The silver leaves that grew from the top of the trees that seemed to grow around it hung down to give it a thatched look on a roof angled up high into a triangle centre.

In a word: Quaint. In two words: Absolutely perfect.

“What a gorgeous lil’ home!” she squeaked with a skip in her step. “Straight out of a Grimm tale.”

The Doctor scratched at the back of his head, a furrow in his brow. “Well. I don’t know that I’d put it _that_ way.”

“No,” Braxietel aid with a nod. “I completely agree with her. Hansel and Gretel without the lollies all over it.”

“Not the look I was going for,” the Doctor muttered petulantly. 

“Well it’s the look you managed to get,” Braxiatel muttered with a rub of his thumb and forefinger on his chin. “Have to admit, Thete, that for all the things you’re good at, arboriculture isn’t exactly one of them.”

Rose twisted her head to look at him. “What’ya mean?”

Braxiatel made a rather facetious effort to present the small home to Rose with all the grandeur of a game show hostess showing off the night’s prize. “Rose Tyler. Allow me to introduce you to your brand new home!”

Rose dropped the fruit in her hand to the floor and dropped her jaw in disbelief. “My new _what_?”

“Home,” Braxiatel reiterated. “Thete considered your current living conditions – on a TARDIS of all things – and determined that your future together here on Gallifrey would be more confortably shared if you had a home of your own. He arranged for a seeding about six months ago, and with some care, pruning and training of the branch growths of the Cadonwood..” He pointed to the small cottage once more. “Voila! A home worthy of the Brothers Grimm.” His eyes narrowed at the pair of wolves who were wasting no time at all in sniffing around the property and marking it as their own. “Appropriate given the new occupants, I suppose.”

“A house?” Rose was shellshocked and speechless. “But…. But… The TARDIS?”

“Oh,” the Doctor cheered as he tugged on her hand and pulled her toward the front door. “She has her own space to park and recharge. Surely you didn’t think she’d be left out of this?”

“But how is there room?” she asked with her eyes wide on the small home. “It doesn’t look big enough to have anything more’n a kitchen and a bed in it.”

He belted out a laugh. “Time Lord technology, Rose. Please. How long have you been travelling with me now?”

“Bigger on the inside, then?”

He nodded and pressed his hand against the door. “Of course it is.” He pushed, but the door didn’t budge.

“On Gallifrey,” Braxiatel offere condescendingly. “You need to pull, not push, on the front door of a home.”

“Oh,” the Doctor sang out facetiously, with an arch in his back in a excessive gesture. “I am so very glad for that bit of information, Brax. Thank you so much. My next course of action was going to be to lift it from the bottom.”

“You are, of course, very welcome, Thete” Braxiatel said with a beaming grin.

“Both of you,” Rose huffed with a shake of her head. “Children. Absolute children.” With another shake in her head she walked around the Doctor, made an exaggerated effort to pull at the door and then rolled her eyes as she stepped inside the home. When she did, she gasped again at the bright and airy way the entire home opened up..

“Magnificent” was all she could manage.

Much like the outside of the home, the inner walls looked to be constructed from trees, all shimmering marbled grey and white tree trunks. Branches arched and twisted into high fractal ceilings from which orbed lights hung. Broad windows allowed in full natural lighting that cast rays across comfortable furnishings. She strode from room to room, gasping in awe, and muttering her amazement at this place.

Finally, she returned to the pair of Time Lords that still remained at the front entrance and looked at them with utter confusion as to how and just why?

The Doctor read her surprise and grinned. “So what do you think Rose? How do you like it?”

“This? This is for me?”

“Us,” he corrected gently. “You and me. And TARDIS, and the kids, and … well … anyone else that may come along. In time. Of course.”

She blew out a breath. Still shellshocked and really not at all knowing what to say, she tucked her hair behind her ear. “I really wanna joke about how you want me to move in with you an’all, but I just … I just can’t.”

He moved toward her, worry beginning to cross his features. “Rose? Are you okay?” He looked around him. “You don’t like it,” he muttered flatly. “Too Galifreyan? I did try for a proper melting pot between our two cultures, rather than a mosaic effect.”

“I love it,” she managed weakly. 

He visibly relaxed, slumping in place. “Oh thank Rassilon. For a moment there, I thought…” He grinned. “Oh, but wait until you see… and then there’s this!”

He grabbed her hand and excitedly started to show her around.

“I really did work hard to put this altogether,” he admitted with a very large helping of self pride. “And really, it was time for us both. The TARDIS in indeed a very comfortable home, but it takes considerable effort for her to constantly maintain all of the living systems for us like she has been. It’s time she had a rest. And it’s time I finally settled down in a house. A proper house – with doors, and carpets…”

Rose’s expression fell toward sadness. “A mortgage?” she queried quietly.

One side of his face crinkled up into a crease. “Well, no. Not exactly. The land was already owned by the Lungbarrow family, and the house was seeded from…” he pinched his fingers. “A tiny little seed. Like this.” He spun in place. “But with some tender care and urging, and accelerated growth hormones from the local nursery, BOOM! A house!”

“With Doors and things,” she repeated quietly. “And carpets.”

“Exactly!”

Rose lifted her eyes to his. “You don’t want this,” she warned him. “Especially not with me.”

The Doctor looked thoroughly perplexed by that. “Actually, yes. Yes I do.”

She bit her lip and shook her head. “No. You don’t. In your future, you said that having this –” She held her arms out and spun. “All this. No. That would be terrifying. You’d rather die than take on something like this…”

“Rose…”

“The same day you told ‘em that the TARDIS was the only thing you had in the entire universe, literally the only thing.” She looked at him again. “I was standin’ right there, Doctor, while you told them I was nothin’.”

His expression hardened with annoyance toward his future, which forced her to look away. His voice remained soft, tender, and caring. “Rose. That’s not me, not yet. Don’t. Please don’t judge me for something I haven’t even done yet…”

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “Thanks. Thanks for all this, Doctor. But … I can’t…” She petted his chest and ran to the front door. She knocked by Braxietel in her haste to leave. “Sorry,” she muttered pitifully.

The Doctor knew better than to run after her. Instead, he waved his hands to the wolves to shoo them out after her. “Protect her,” he demanded of them as they tore off out the front in a blue of bluish white.

“Thete,” Braxiatel breathed out with concern. “What, exactly, do you become in your future?”

“Brax” he breathed out angrily. “I don’t know … but I damn well want to find out once and for all, just what that regeneration turned me into…”


	13. Her decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose opens up to a very confused and angry Time Lord

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So. 
> 
> I knooooow that some of you were expecting a confrontation of Doctors. Trust me, I wanted to write it myself... but it would have messed me right up, and as I have a tendency to write myself into corners by taking the paths more interesting, I opted to continue on my current path toward things that I promise you will be more exciting.
> 
> I may well do a sidebar a little later exploring an option of that nature, but for now. I'm sorry to disappoint.
> 
> For this one, I'm working out the kinks and getting little duckies all lined up. :)
> 
> This chapter might have people go: Whiskey Tango Foxtrot are you doing here? And I do hope so... Because that means I'm writing it right... HAHA!
> 
> Of course if you're shrugging and saying whatever, then I'm not doing it at all well. Sighhhhh.
> 
> Again, thank you so much for your wonderful comments. You have no idea how wonderful it is to see my inbox light up with a message or two or three or four... Thank you, and thank you.

~~oooOOOooo~~

Braxiatel turned toward his brother with a furious glint in his eye. “You need to go back to where you found her, Thete. Go back, see your elder self, and demand to know what game he’s been playing.” He pulled a small phone from his pocket. “I’ll have Romana notify the Transduction teams that you will be travelling off-planet. Go get your TARDIS, I’ll cancel my afternoon appointments and stay with Rose.”

The Doctor’s eyes were swirling with anger and frustration. He stared at the open front door of his home out toward the orchard of Magnolia trees that Rose was so happily enjoying only moments ago. His voice was quiet. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean, you can’t?” he growled in reply. “Because two of you in one place will upset timelines and wreak havock?” He let up a laugh. “You are Theta Sigma, the Doctor, the Renegade Time Lord who can – and has – done everything. If there’s one thing I know about you, Brother, it’s that there is no power or rule-set in this universe that will stop you from doing anything.”

He nodded toward the open door. “Except when she’s the one making the rules.”

Braxiatel laughed hard at that one. “You started breaking her rules almost immediately.”

The Doctor shook his head. His eyes still on that damn open door. “Only when she consented, Brax. Mutual rule breaking on both our parts.” His eyes finally blinked and he looked toward his brother with pain in his eyes. “One very specific rule she has that I vowed to her I wouldn’t break was that I would not go forward into my timeline to confront myself.”

“Really?” Brax breathed out with doubt.

“Yes, Brax. Really.”

“Care to share with me the exact wording of that very specific rule of hers?”

The Doctor could hear the hostility in his brother’s voice. He didn’t mind it. He mirrored it – for once. “Why are you asking me that?”

“To find the loophole,” he answered fast. He flicked his hand toward the door. “To be able to step ahead and address this issue before the reminders of him take you away from you completely.”

That surprised the Doctor. He flashed a look containing that surprise toward his brother. “You sound like you care just as much about the woman as you do the time lines.”

“Tell anyone else and I will vehemently deny any affection toward a Human,” Brax muttered. “But yes. This one is definitely special – if only because she brings about a change in you that I never thought possible.”

“I’m happy,” the Doctor added to Braxiatel’s remark. “For the first time since leaving Gallifrey to find what it is I needed to make me whole, I’ve finally found it.” He lowered his head with a frustrated huff. “And yet I have to suffer from sins I can’t imagine myself committing in my future… Not against her.”

“And this is why we need you to go ahead to that future and find out exactly what has gone wrong in your head … what _else_ has gone wrong…” He tried for flippancy. “You’ve never been quite right in there.”

“Malfunction in the loom,” he said with a sigh. “Incompatibility between Human and Gallifreyan DNA.”

“No, Thete,” Brax sighed in an unusually tender brotherly tone. “Don’t’ talk like that. You’re just a little different to the rest of us .. more human than Gallifreyan.” He looked at him. “Tell anyone I said this and I will end you.” He inhaled. “The Human part of you makes you better than all of us.” He looked back at the door. “And so does she.”

“I just can’t imagine so heartslessly wanting to throw it away like that,” the Doctor breathed out with confusion. “What in Arcadia happened?”

“Go and find out,” Braxiatel urged him. “I’ll get you your clearance and keep an eye on your beloved. Just do try and time your return to within only a few minutes.” He smirked. “And the one that loved her – pick him up and take him with you too. Go in with a double-pronged attack.”

The Doctor actually considered it for a moment. He even took a step forward. Then he stopped, slumped, and let out a moan of utter defeat. “I can’t, Brax. As much as I want to – and trust me that want is excruciatingly powerful – I can’t betray her like that.”

“Then I’ll go,” Braxiatel offered with a firm nod of decision. “Give me the coordinates, and let me have a word with him. I’ll take Leela with me. She has a few new knives that she’d like to show him.”

That actually brought a smile to the Doctor’s face. “While I do appreciate your concern, Brother. Let me handle this one.” He stepped forward. “I’ll go have a word with Rose, and see if … if…” He exhaled. “I’ll see just what I can do to salvage what I have with her right now, and in the future.”

“The offer still remains, Thete,” Braxiatel offered. “I can, and I will most certainly make it happen.”

The Doctor nodded and waved his hand at him as he walked out the front door. “Thanks. I’ll … I’ll let you know.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Rose didn’t know how far she ran. Calculating distance wasn’t something that was front and centre in her mind. All she knew is that she ran until she couldn’t anymore, and when she finally fell against a tall and smooth white-barked tree to catch her breath, she realised that she didn’t even know in which direction she’d run. She turned in place and looked around her, her eyes low and then high, desperately trying to find a landmark that may indicate where she’d ended up.

“Oh, crap,” she sighed finally. Her head fell to hand past her shoulders and she huffed at the ground. “Got myself in a right mess now, haven’t I?”

A large white face with a deep blue nose and charcoal black eyes moved curiously into her field of vision. Crouched on the floor and maintaining eye contact with her mistress, the female Dahrama let out a huff of concern.

Rose dropped her hand to scratch at the wolf’s head. “I’m okay, Sweetheart. Really.” She kept her hand on the wolf’s head and lifted her own to survey the trees ahead of her. “He’ll find us,” she assured her. “I promise you.”

Of course she knew that her pair of Dahramas were in no way concerned for their own safety and wellbeing. The pair were wild animals, they’d be perfectly fine out in this wilderness … which was breathtakingly stunning to her, even despite her panic and exhaustion. No, her pair of animals that she and the Doctor referred to lovingly as “the Kids” would be far more concerned for her safety than for theirs. She knew she was safe. 

She looked down into the still concerned gaze of the female. “While we wait for daddy to find us, let’s explore, shall we?”

That seemed to satisfy the young female. She huffed and then stepped off to the side to flank Rose on her left, while her mate flanked protectively on the right.

The only walked a further minute or so before the treeline ended and the landscape opened up ahead of them. Once again Rose’s breath was caught at the beauty of the land around her. Mountains rose high from the ground ahead, snow capped and a majestic shade of red and orange. Between the mountains and her lay a wide creek and Cadonwood forest. The twin suns, both peeking through the split between the mountains sent visible rays of light so bright that when it hit the silver leaves of the trees, it looked as though it was ablaze with fire.

Her hands lifted to cover her gasping mouth as a distant cry of a Dahrama howled a cry marking its territory. Beside her the male wolf howled in reply, a warning that the lands this side of the creek belonged to them. The female quickly followed, and within only a moment a chorus of wolves howled their soulful song across the forest.

The male started to pet his feet on the grass, eager and urgently wanting to find a higher point to sing. Rose looked down at him and encouraged him with a nod and a wave of her hand. “Go,” she said to it. “Go be what you need to be. I’ll be safe, right here.”

The two animals looked up at her, looked down to each other, wanting to run, but unwilling to leave their mistress alone.

“It’s okay,” the Doctor’s voice crooned in quietly from behind them all. “I’m here. I’ll keep her safe.”

The Wolves both offered him a grateful hunch, and then launched off into the forest. Rose watched their excited scarper with a smile on her face. “Between theirs and your overprotectiveness, I’m beginning to wonder just how much of a damsel in distress you all think I am.”

“We just want to make sure you’re safe,” he replied quietly on a voice fairly devoid of any emotion as he stepped up beside her. His eyes were locked to the distance, his hands buried deep inside his trouser pockets, and he made no move to remove them and try and take her hand like he normally would. “This is our world, remember. We know it better than anyone. What’s dangerous, what’s safe…”

Rose looked down at the bulge in his packet that was his balled hand. She let her eyes trail up to the seat of his jaw: Taut, grinding, no sign of a smile at all. His eyes were half-lidded and focused ahead, the colour less dusty and more pale than normal.

“You’re mad,” she deduced out loud.

“I am,” he confirmed without looking at her. “Furious might be a more accurate descriptor, of course.”

She felt that inside her chest and immediately her face creased in regret. “I’m sorry, Doctor,” she pleaded. “I know you probably worked really hard to get that house ready. And I love it. I really _really_ love it. I know I seem ungrateful, and I’m sorry about that.”

“I’m not mad at you,” he clarified on a gentle tone. Still his eyes were focused ahead of him. The hand inside his pocket shifted, relaxed, and then withdrew, finally seeking out her hand to hold. “Never at you.”

She noticeably relaxed when his hand clutched firmly at hers and she felt the rush of assurance shoot from her head to her toes, as it always did when he was near. She squeezed his hand. “What who’re you mad at? Brax?” She looked at a tall Cadonwood tree and gasped as the head of her male Dahrama popped up out of the top and lifted to the sky in a howl. “Oh, my.”

“They like to climb,” the Doctor lectured with a small and barely noticeable smile. “Like your cats back on earth, the Dahrama have retractable and very sharp claws. They use them to hunt, to fight, and then to climb trees.” He swallowed. “It’s important to know where a Dahrama’s territory exists when you intend on hiking through the Gallifreyan forests. The like to surprise larger pray by hunting from above, and many a traveller has found himself attacked from above…”

“Doctor,” Rose interrupted. 

He finally looked down at her. “Yes?”

“You didn’t answer my question.” She paused at his still rather annoyed expression, but lifted her hand to stroke at his jaw, still tight and locked. “If it’s not me, then tell me. Why are you so mad? How can I help?”

His head moved just slightly, enough to press a very quick kiss against the very tip of her thumb. His voice fell to a more tender timbre, but still held considerable annoyance. “I’m mad at me,” he clarified.

That confused her a little. “Mad at _you_? Why would you be mad at you?” Her eyes widened. “About the house, Doctor?” She shook her head and turned fully toward him. There was desperation and pleasing in her eyes as she looked up at him via hic chest. “It’s beautiful, and I love it…”

“But it reminds you of _me_ ,” he said flatly. “A future me who haunts the both of us. You because of the pain he’s caused you, and me because he exists in a future that I can’t ever imagine allowing to happen.”

She slumped and petted his chest before moving to once again stand at his side instead of in front of him. “Does this mean you want to send me away? Back home? Back to him?”

That made his breath hitch and his hearts hurt. The hand still holding hers tightened to almost unbearable. “Is that what you want?”

She felt a shudder. “If I said yes, would you?”

His voice, his breath, was shaking. “I don’t want you to go,” he admitted. “It breaks both of my hearts to even consider it, but if that’s what you want, Rose. I’ll do it. For you.”

“Do you love me?” she asked softly, a waver in her voice.

“I do, Rose,” he answered quickly. “With both of my currently very terrified hearts.”

She turned to look up at him again. “Can you say it to me? Can you put that love into words and actually speak them?”

He turned toward her, and once again they were face to face. He brought up both hands to cup her cheeks and spoke with tender honesty, first in his native Gallifreyan, and then switching to English. “My hearts beat for you, Rose.”

She did smile at that, perfectly understanding that it was the Gallifreyan-English translation of a vow of love. Spoken by his people. And she’d normally be very happy with just that. For this, though, she needed to hear the phrase as it was spoken by the people on Earth … at least spoken by anyone that wasn’t a pin-striped Time Lord.

“Tell me you love me, Doctor. In my language. In my phrasing.”

He lowered his mouth to hers and whispered across her lips. “I love you, Rose. I love you in this time and for all the time ahead of us.” He pressed his lips gently to hers for a short graze; just enough to very appropriately accent his vow.

Rose smiled and set her hands on his chest. She lightly pressed away from him, letting her hands rise to take his hands from her face and hold them in between them. She dropped her eyes down to their hands.

“In your future, you can’t say that to me,” she said without looking. “At least not in a language I can understand.” She drew her thumbs against his knuckles, thankful that he was remaining silent to allow her to finish. “You try on occasion, I’ll give you that. There’s always an attempt before you simply stop, shrug, and assume that I already know.” She lifted her heat to finally look into his sad, blue eyes. “Which I really don’t any more – at least not from him.”

“Tell me,’ he urged her gently. “Let me understand what happens to me … to us … in times ahead.” He exhaled. “I can’t begin to imagine just what would take me from where I am now, to where I am when you met me, saved me, loved me … to the man who ultimately let you down.”

She stepped forward into his chest and turned her head to one side. Looking across to the distance and to her two wolves still howling toward their fellow dahramas. “When I was younger and more stupid than I am now, I fell in love. He was older than me. A bad boy. A renegade and rebel. Someone who on the very first day I met him promised me thrill and excitement.” She shuddered with remembrance of the exhilaration of young love.

“I was so taken by him, Doctor. So unbelievably entranced and enchanted by everything he had to offer and every promise that he made that I gave up everything to follow him. I left school. I left my mum. I left my friends. I threw everything to one side, took his hand, and I ran.”

She released his hands and stepped away from him. She wrapped her arms around her chest and held herself tightly as she walked to a large bounder by the creek and sat down against it. With her feet firmly on the ground, her legs only slightly bent to support her, she held herself and leaned down toward her knees to exhale a very long and tired breath. “But new love. It’s got an expiry date on it. ‘Specially when you’re only 16 and don’t know any better.”

The Doctor hadn’t moved from the position in which she left him. He still remained standing to one side, twisted to be able to look at her, and several long feet away from being able to offer her any physical comfort. He took in her words and let them curl around his hearts, but he said nothing. He just looked at her with soulfully sad blue eyes.

She remained in a lean down over her knees. Still held onto herself. She lifted her head, though, to look across the landscape, hoping that the marvel of the land would give her the strength to continue. “Bein’ taken for granted hurts, Doctor. Givin’ your heart to someone who only wants to hold it when they’re looking to get a bit of sex relief, or when they want dinner, or help payin’ the bills, well that’s one thing. A heck of a lot of us do it, you know. We don’t even think about it until one day when you’re in your 50’s, you roll over, look at your husband and think – what the hell was I thinkin”?”

“An’ I wish that’s all that it was with him,” she continued. “But it wasn’t, you know. I let him walk all over me. Didn’t just lay down when he wanted it, help pay his bills’n all, but I also turned the blind eye to him playin’ about with other girls.”

His eyes flashed angrily at that, but he still remained in place and quiet.

“I still stayed around when he raised hands to me, made me feel worthless, and …”

The Doctor rushed forward at that. “He did _what_ to you?” There was absolute fury in his glare as he moved around the rock and fell to a knee on the ground in between her parted knees. “I vow to you, Rose, my solem oath, is that I will never, ever, do that to you. Something must have gone so sensationally wrong during my regeneration to become a man like that. Let me go to him, in my future. Despite wanting to, I won’t kill, harm, or maim myself. But please lift your rule of me speaking to my future. Let me reason with me, find out just what…”

“You think I’m describing you?” she interrupted curiously. Her eyes wide on his. “I’m really not, but I can see how it would appear that way.”

A look of confusion crossed his beautiful face. He didn’t rise from his knee, but he shuffled just a small bit forward to move closer. “I really don’t understand.”

“His name was Jimmy Stone,. Human, ” Rose clarified with a rueful smile of regret. “And he was your very typical band member bad boy. All greasy, unwashed, rebellious, and … to 16 year old me, the most gorgeous man alive.” She still held herself, still leaned over her knees, but no longer kept her eyes on him. Instead she peered back off into the distance ahead. “So when he offered to take me with him – his little groupie girlfriend – I did it. No thought for anyone else and anythin’. I just went.” She exhaled. “Didn’t take long for it to all go south, though. And I thought, you know, I really believed that he loved me like I thought I loved him. And I figured that it’d all get better soon. Everyone has a rough patch in a relationship, right?”

He looked up at her, argument on that dancing in his eyes, but he remained quiet.

“Things had to get pretty bad before I finally had to leave,” she admitted. “He had countless flings with loose women, there was drug use and abuse, him tryin’ to offer me out to his friends hopin for me to make money for him.” She held herself tighter and shuddered. “And then the beatin’ when I woudn’t do it.” Her eyes snatched toward him when he growled. “But Doctor I got out. On my own. Perfectly intact … well, for the most part anyway. Don’t be thinking I got involved in all that, hroguh. I don’t do drugs, and don’t lay around.”

“I would never,” he huffed.

“An’ I got out fairly good,” she said with a smile. “Went back to mum, got myself a job, got him completely out of my hair.” She looked at him sadly. “And I promised myself that I’d never let that happen to me again. Because, I’m worth somethin’,” she declared proudly. “I’m not some meaningless lil’ twit. I’m smart, I’m capable…”

“Brilliant,” he added with a smile. “Wonderful. Brave…”

Rose smiled at that and finally loosened her hold of herself, but only enough to flick at his shoulder with her fingertip. “I made a vow to myself that if a man ever treated me less than perfect, then I’d leave. Didn’t matter how much I loved him, I’m worth more’n that.”

He rose on his knees and lifted his arms to circle her hips on the boulder surface. “Indeed you are, Rose. If he’s not offering you the moon, stars, and his entire universe, then he’s not worth your love.” He smiled somewhat cheekily. “And so we are clear on that, I offer you that and so much more.” 

Rose finally completely released her hold on herself. She wrapped her arms around his head, cradling the back with her fingers. Although his head was on her belly, she leaned down as har as she could to rest her forehead on the top of his head.

“I know you do, Doctor,” she answered into his hair. “You offer me that’n so much more. And so did my Doctor in leather.” She huffed. “But the you who followed couldn’t.”

She lifted up from his head. Her arms still cradled that soft mop of chestnut curls against her belly, but she looked up and out into the distance. “He couldn’t offer me that in half, even. Couldn’t even keep tellin’ me that he loved me. But I did, I really did. Loved him that is.” She shuddered. “And then I broke my promise to myself and stayed. I stayed hopin he’d come back to his senses and that everything would go back to what it was before the Daleks and his regeneration.”

He cursed that word on a low breath. “It’s always those damn Daleks.”

“So it was Jimmy all over again,” she sighed. “Of course no drugs and hittin’ me or anythin’ like that. But the being taken for granted and watchin’ as he made out with other girls…”

He lifted his head. Still cradled in her hands, he peeked though her arms with eyes so pleading and soft. “Let me see,” He pleaded. “Just one time, let me inside your head to see? Let me see if there is any way at all to salvage what you had.”

She looked down and shook her head at him. “I can’t.” She hiccupped. “I won’t let you.”

“So does this mean that we’re done? I mean you and I, and everything we were building here?” His voice shuddered and he felt that familiar fluttering in his belly that indicated a pivotal moment in the movement toward the fixed point. Whatever was happening here was a crucial moment, and it was beginning to terrify him. “If this where you ask me to take you home?”

“Do you love me, Doctor?” she asked by way of replying to his question. “And I don’t mean a fleeting kind’ve love where you’ll be done with me soon, I mean love that’ll last lifetimes.”

“I…”

She closed her forearms around his head t hold him tighter and lowered her gaze to his. “Can you see the two of us together forever, building a life together?”

His voice was a whisper. “I thought that’s what I was doing, Rose.”

“Will you let me live the rest of my life here, on Gallifrey, with you?” She inhaled a shaking breath, held it and then spoke softly. “In for a penny, in for a pound. Doctor, I want to know that you’re in this for the long haul; that you’re not going to get itchy feet in a year or two and want of take off again to flirt across all time and space.”

“Are you saying that you never want to return to me, in the future, I mean?” He blew out a breath. “You’re willing to let me think that you died on Crandinia, break my hearts and leave me all alone?”

“Like you broke my tender and very singular one?” she retorted with accusation in her tone. “You left me, Doctor, without a care or concern, on a space ship 5,000 years in my future. Abandoned me’n Mickey and even the TARDIS, so you could go play about with madame de-bloody-pompadour.”

He shook his head. “I did _what_? With _Who_?”

“That really was the beginnin’ of the end right there,” Rose admitted. “I mean all of the thoughlessness I thought I could ignore, but that adventure, Doctor.” She winced. “You were a completely different person than ever. I could barely recognise you. You were mean, you were arrogant, self serving. You nearly let me get cut up for spare parts because you wanted to invent banana daquiris at the French Court….”

“This really doesn’t sound good.”

“But when you jumped through that mirror and left us all alone so you could be with her, God that hurt. Then to have you come back, didn’t care how scared me and Mick’s were. And then you flippantly tell us to hang about another five and a half hours so you could go back b’cause you wanted to invite your new lover on board….”

She wiped at her eye with her wrist, and then her nose with the back of her hand. “She was dead when you went back for her. You timed your jump wrong and she was already gone. I’ve never seen you so devastated.” She inhaled deeply. “I knew we were definitely over, but I really didn’t want to admit it.”

“Oh my hearts,” he breathed sadly. “What kind of cad did I become?”

She sniffed and said straight up, although still held his head protectively. “So that said, I think turnabout might be fair play, yeah? Sometimes, Doctor, we need to lose that we have to appreciate what we had. Maybe it’ll make you a better person for the next one who comes along.” 

“You’re giving me a very grim future to look toward, Rose,” he breathed out, not quite wanting to voice the extreme desire to head into his future and punch his elder self in the face, although the feeling was quite overwhelming at present.. “And yet, I’m finding that I really don’t care about that all too much. I have you here, now, holding your heart out to me. I want to take it.” He drew his thumbs up along her thighs. “I want to give you everything you want. A home, marriage ,,, and I will vow to you that I’ll even get these things working right,” he gestured down into his lap with a tilt of his head. “And give you children…”

She chuckled. “How about we get married first?” she asked with a kiss against the top of his head.

“Is that something you’d be interested in?” There was a glimmer in his eyes and hope in his tone. “A life here, with me, for the rest of your life on Gallifrey?”

“I only wish it could be the rest of yours as well.”

He smiled a sad smile. “My future proves that it isn’t the case, Rose, and without that future, then I wouldn’t have you here with me now, contemplating our future.”

“I guess I have something to thank your future you for then, don’t I?” She lightly pushed his head back from her belly, and slid down the rock face to settle herself on his thighs, one leg either side. Her arms shifted to circle his neck and she exhaled a relieved breath when his arms immediately moved to encircle her back. “If he wasn’t such an inconsiderate and selfish git, I wouldn’t have run.”

“And you wouldn’t be here with me now, offering me the one adventure I’ve never had.”

She dropped her head to run her lips against his and rode slightly higher up on his lap to bring them toward a much more intimate closeness. “Ask me,’ she breathed softly, shifting herself on his lip and tempting him to rise to her. “In the voice of your people. Ask me again,” she let Gallifreyan syllables fall from her lips, sighing and whimpering when his arms snapped around her waist to pull her up hard against his rapidly hardening length.

“That’s my name,” he breathed out with a hiss at the shot of pleasure that exploded from where she was pressing against him. “How did you… Who taught you that?”

“Not a person I want to bring up when we’re like this,’ she answered with a rock of her hips and a sigh of the name he gave himself. “I also know how to answer you,” she explained. “Just ask me.”

There was temptation to push up her dress, pull down his pants, and simply thrust upward. A single stroke would have him buried deeply inside her, and together they could drive away each other’s insecurities and fears – forge a newer and stronger bond than anyone else before them on Gallifrey. And, by Rassilon, it was the perfect setting for such a thing. No, actually it wasn’t. Not perfect. Almost perfect.

True perfection would be in the new home that they’d build together. In the bed that sat in the middle of the large bedroom he’d spent hours creating just for her …

He held her tightly against him and lifted from his knees and up onto his feet. He made sure to have bth her legs remain around his hips as he drew one arm across her back and let the other hold her tightly up against him. With one short howl directed toward his still frolicking Dahrama wolves to let them know they were leaving, he began the relatively short walk back to the house.

Each step rocked her against his length, and with each sigh, gasp, and whimper of his name, and the arching of her back with desire, he knew it would be near impossible for her to make it back home before shattering and succumbing to the pleasure he was inadvertently offering her.

The cottage was in sight, as was Braxiatel waiting anxiously at his door…

…Unfortunate, that.

But she was whispering in his ear, asking him to ask her for her forever, rubbing along the swollen length, and close to faltering and shattering completely. He finally found himself having to jostle his hold on her just slightly, to try and take some pressure off them both and save some small sliver of dignity around his brother.

She gave a nip at his ear, and he was done for.

Desperate words of longing and desire in an ancient language exploded from his mouth. Propriety be damned as he uttered the proposal that was only ever meant to be shared between two in privacy. Rose waisted no time at all in replying in Gallifreyan tongue with a drip and curl on the words that had his entire body shudder.

Braxiatel’s eyes widened when he saw their approach, and his mouth gaped upon hearing their words. That look of shock quickly melted into an expression more appropriate for a conversation between brothers.

“Thete,” he muttered by way of greeting as the Doctor walked past and into the doorway.

“Brax,” came the clipped acknowledgement only a second before the door was kicked shut behind him.

There was a smile on Braxiatel’s face as he looked toward the closed door. “Congratulations, my Brother. I wish you and your new wife as much happiness as me and mine have found.”

A loud, almost anguished, but obviously pleasured male howl emanated out of the windows of the home, and Braxiatel’s expression of pride toward his brother fell into one of confusion. The two wolves were outside with him and so the only people that could have….

His eyes widened and his mouth contorted into a frown of disgust. “Rassilon, Thete, really?” He shuddered, retched, and whipped a small transport watch from his coat pocket. Before he could hear another of those disgusting sounds he twisted a dial to disappear and head back to Arcadia.

Before fully dematerialising, however, that look of disgust did shift to a smile of happiness for the one member of his family he’d thought would never find it.


	14. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten's Search

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clarityy wanted a wee interlude with Ten. I had a minute (well, thirty of them, actually), and decided I'd quickly write one up for them... I hope this is what you were looking for.
> 
> I really don't want to get too deeply into it ... there is a very specific reason for the behaviours of our precious kids that will come up shortly... And remember perception is a bitch, how one person sees something is not always going to be what it actually is... That's why I always tell my son when he's trying to rat someone out for something or get me to intervene in something else: "There are three sides to every story, yours, theirs, and the truth." Usually the latter can be found somewhere in the middle of the two former words.... 
> 
> There is nothing sensational about this chapter, except to show that Ten is moving on, as he has always done. Except we know his state of mind on this particular adventure, and you can be assured that he takes the very same actions and has the same emotions this time around as he did back then.

The howling and destructive winds of Crandinia’s nightly storm had finally ebbed off into deathly calm. For the third day of the fourth week in a row, the Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS and into the darkened night to continue to look for the companion he’d lost.

Rose. Oh, his wonderful and beloved precious girl. She was out here somewhere, she simply had to be…. And Rassilon above, please let him find her.

He couldn’t hold out hope for her survival any longer. He’d given up on that after the first week of searching for her. Home after home he’d searched in desperate hope that somehow – just somehow – she’d been rescued from the storm she’d fled into on the night they landed on this blasted planet. Unofrtunately that wasn’t to be. Stalking the local health centres and hospitals yielded nothing at all. She wasn’t found by any search party – and he’d organized several of them.

But he refused to leave without her. Even dead with no hope at all of resurrection, even with the help of the Priestesses of Karn, he had to find her and return her to Earth.

His “marriage” had ended as abruptly as it had begun, which did hamper his search efforts on that first day. Rose taking off into the storm had fired something absolutely primal within him, and he’d completely lost it upon everyone in the house. Aggression was severely frowned upon by all on Crandinia – a very peaceful planet – and so an annulment was immediately filed.

The whole thing was a pathetic joke to begin with. One he had been looking forward to laughing about with Rose when they fled to the safety of the TARDIS after the storm. Okay, he hadn’t been expecting the whole consummation of the vows and pledge to sire a child during that first joining. That had blindsided him completely. And really. Just when did they change the laws of the land to indicate a smile and wave of greeting constituted a legally binding proposition toward an unwed Crandinian female in the first place?

It didn’t help that the female in question had only held him to the marriage because she absolutely did not want to marry the son of a neighbouring nation in order to secure a binding treaty that would open up their trading borders.

Fortunately, during the times that the storm rolled in, the Doctor was able to negotiate a very respectful and mutually beneficial treaty between nations. Really, Rose would have been proud of him. 

Rose.

..Rassilon. Where was she?

He was getting close to overstaying his welcome here on Crandinia. The locals were very swiftly finding his endless searching and questioning as to the whereabouts of Rose Tyler very tiresome. He was quite sure that they’d ignore their planet’s non-aggressive protocols and form a group to throw him in the TARDIS and order him gone.

But not without her, He couldn’t.

He clutched at his hair with both fists as he searched the arid lands around the original landing site for the TARDIS and walked around in great circles, calling out her name.

She had been so upset when she’d fled. So very upset and angry. Part of him – well, that is to say most of him – agreed with her anger and upset.

It was all he could seem to do to her over the months leading toward her disappearance. He didn’t know why this was happening to him; why he pushed and pulled and did everything he could to break her heart. 

And by Rassilon’s wrath why would he even want to break it? His hearts beat for that precious pink and yellow human of his. They had beat for her almost immediately after meeting back in his last incarnation, they still beat for her just as strongly – if not more – for her now.

She was his anchor and his rock. She taught him to live and to love again when he though he was unworthy of both. How was he going to continue on without her?

He lifted his head and called out tearfully to her. He called again. Again. And yet again; so much so that his throat began to ache and his voice was becoming hoarse.

What was happening to him that he was acting out in the opposite manner than he should; than he wanted to? Why was he incapable of expressing his love for her as he had done so easily before now. The word was always there, right there on the tip of his tongue, but when it came to expressing it, saying it out loud, wanting to live it as passionately as he had done before his regeneration, the word fell away?

He lifted his head to the sky and called out to her again. “Rose Tyler. I …” he stumbled. “Rose. I L…” he dropped his head. Even without her being near and able to hear him, he was still physically unable to say it.

Why was it so impossible to say it; when it was so very very true? What force was holding him back from taking everything she wanted to offer, and giving her everything in return? Why was he pushing when all he wanted to do was pull? 

…Why was he such an incredible twat?

If Braxiatel was still alive – and Rassilon he missed that fool – then he’d have a gilded page notarized by council explaining exactly why he was a twat.

He called out to her again, urging her to shout or scream or anything to let him know she was okay.

Please, Rose…

A splash of purple on a dusty ochre rock captured the Doctor’s attention. With a fast striding run, his heavy coat tails flaring behind him, the Doctor descended upon it. His eyes were wide, his teeth grit tightly together as he plunged his hand into the week’s old dumping of dust and rocks, to pull up a thin purple cardigan made of a fabric that was Earth made, and definitely not native to this planet.

His hands shook violently as he lifted the torn and bloody garment to his nose and he drew in a deep breath. Lavender and Vanilla. That was Rose’s favourite deodorant, and one that he made very special trips back to Earth in order to procure it for her when she got low.

He traced the tip of his tongue along a thin streak of blood and snapped it quickly back into his mouth to analyse and swallow. The taste of her, her very essence, filled his mouth and his awareness immediately. She had been here, at this very point, likely during the highest point of the storm. He looked around him in hope that there was a structure, anything, any _where_ that she could have run to seek shelter from.

His hearts sank.

Nothing. Nothing for at least a mile.

He held the fabric to his face and broke. Great gulping sobs wracked the Time Lord’s shoulders and he fell forward onto his elbows, howling forlorn and lost and not knowing how he would ever carry through from here.

He only had two lives left. He could easily choose not to regenerate again – here, on the same planet that took her from him.

And maybe. You know what? Maybe it was time…

His TARDIS howled out a warning whine and groan, and for a moment the Doctor ignored her. He heard her pitch a whine again and snarled over his shoulder in impatience. “ _What_?” His jaw fell and his eyes widened when a red headed woman wearing a white wedding dress stepped angrily out of the TARDIS.

“Where am I?” she growled threateningly at the landscape before her eyes fell onto him, still kneeling in the dirt, tearstained and barely holding on. “And who are you?”

“ _What_?”


	15. Christmas Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor returns Donna home after their Christmas adventure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I talked the fam into letting me take an hour (well, two of them) to write up this wee snip. After writing yesterday's extra chapter, I got an urge to write something else along that vein. Something that just might throw in a wee bit of a flip of things to come...
> 
> I will note: I'm flipping around and changing timelines from canon here. Doomsday did not happen, Crandinia happened instead. Stolen Earth and Journey's end won't happen, because.... it just won't. No pieces are on the board for that one!
> 
> So don't be expecting anything like that.... All pieced will fall quite shortly... I promise.
> 
> I will state that I did look over the transcript for the ending of Runaway Bride and watched it a couple of times to get a feel for what happened as I haven't seen that ep for a couple of years. I did syphon quite a bit of the dialogue, but then I also tossed out quite a bit and reworked it.
> 
> So that said: Anything recognizable and actually well written belongs to the amazing Russel T Davies.... anything unrecognizable and not very well written is very much all me.
> 
> I hope you enjoy a rare weekend chapter. Thank you again for your amazing support and comments. You have no idea how much I absolutely love hearing from you. Questions question me and make me rethink certain pathways, so never be afraid to ask and poke...

~~oooOOOooo~~

The keening, whining metal on metal groan of the relative dimensional stabiliser in materialisation mode called out loudly throughout the deserted street. Houses built so closely together that they formed a defensive solid brick wall along the road held in much of that sound, which made the TARDIS’ cry echo back and forth., losing strength until it finally dissipated into silence.

The creak of a centuries old Gallifreyan brass hinge attached to a faded old wooden blue door squealed out next, followed by a long deep feminine breath.

“Were here,” Donna Noble panted out in awe as she stepped onto the street and walked a twisting gait to look around. 

“Back in Chiswick, safe and sound,” the Doctor sang out with a beaming smile. “Just like I promised.” He firmly slapped the door frame of the TARDIS and let his eyes dance across the faded blue wood. “Told you, she can survive anything.”

Donna adjusted the strap of her now ruined wedding dress and gave him a small smile. “Yeah. It’s more than I’ve done.”

He stepped out of the doorway with his sonic screwdriver in hand. He lifted it, did a very quick, but thorough scan and drew out the time to read it. “Negative for Huon particles,” he stated. “No damage done. Perfectly fine.”

Her returning smile was tender, honest, but very sad. “Yeah, but apart from that, I missed my wedding, lost my job, and became a widow on the same day. Well. Sort of”

The Doctor’s wide smile fell, as did his shoulders. “I couldn’t save him,” he admitted with enough apology in his tone that it didn’t need to be said.

She shrugged and shook her head, battling to show nonchalance even though her heart was breaking. “He deserved it,” she spit out petulantly. Her petulance fell and her face creased with regret. “No. No, he didn’t.” She tipped her ear to her home. “I guess I’d better get inside. They’’’ be worried.”

His eyes flicked up to the window. Inside he could see Donna’s mother and grandfather dancing an untrained waltz. There was a young boy with floppy brown hair hanging over green eyes dancing beside them with his own partner in a wide-eyed female toddler. He danced with excitement and gangly energy, thrilled at the music and the energy of celebration. The young girl didn’t seem to be dancing with anywhere near the same level of excited dancing as her partner, instead she only seemed to want to twist side to side while sucking repeated draws on a pacifier.

The Doctor smiled at a very typical human Christmas tradition. Last year, he had been part of family celebrations, this year he had nothing at all to celebrate.

Best not to dwell on it too much. He beamed a faux grin and shifted his eyes to hers. “Best Christmas present they could have. To have you safe.” His eyes widened. “Oh no. I forgot. You hate Christmas.”

Her brow lifted and she shifted the seat of her shoulders into a shrug of agreement. “Yes. I do.”

The Doctor offered her a very cheeky smile and stepped back into the doors of his TARDIS. He leaned back to flip a switch that would absolutely impress her, and stopped short at the sound of a howl along the street. He quickly stepped out of the ship and looked curiously around them, on guard and ready to defend her if necessary.

“Is. Is that a wolf?” He stood ahead of her and held a hand back to keep her safely behind him. “There aren’t supposed to be any wolves in this area.”

Donna laughed. “Ah. Wouldn’t be too worried about them.”

The Doctor spun to look at her, his wide eyes asking for explanation. “ _Them_?”

“Blondie’s dogs,” she answered simply, thumbing over her shoulder to the house next door to hers. “Well, she says they’re Arctic wolves or something from Canada, but a dog’s a dog. All look the same to me. Beautiful pair of animals, but blimey they can get noisy on a full moon.”

The Doctor’s eyes pinched into a frown. “Domesticating wild animals,” he huffed.

“The two of them seem happy enough,” she answered with a shrug. “great around the kids..”

“Yours?” he asked curiously, trying to think back to whether or she was a mother had ever been brought up in conversation.

“Don’t be daft,” she hit back with a shake in her head. “I’m prefer givin’ them back than having to keep them – like I do with that pair. Rose’s couple of youngsters. Four and Six months old.”

The Doctor’s eyes blinked a rapid series of blinks as the name that had been seared into his hearts, yet had been successfully suppressed over the past few hours of excitement, rose up back into his conscience.

“Rose?” he half whimpered.

“Yeah,” she said with a shrug as she looked toward the home. “Moved in about a month ago after she lost her husband. Two kids, two dogs, and no one but her brother Irving and his wife helpin’ out.” She looked back at the Doctor. Her smile was stilted. “Ahh. Dunno why I’m tellin’ you all that. Not like you’d be one for neighbourhood gossip.”

“No,” he agreed. But he shook his head and smiled, even waving a hand to assure her that he really didn’t mind. “It’s important to know who lives around you,” he began. His eyes lifted as another howl rang out over the roofs above. “Especially when they own a wolf or two.”

“Makes the neighbourhood safe if you ask me,” she said with a shrug. “So. You. Got plans?”

He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head slowly. “Nothing planned really. I. I really just want to take a moment. Think about my friend and …”

“When did you lose her?”

He swallowed thickly. “She disappeared a month ago. I’ve been searching for her ever since.” One side of his mouth kicked up in a half smile of regret. “I’d just decided to give up searching when you appeared on my ship.” He lifted his head to she sky and exhaled a breath. “Time to move on. Like I always do.”

“Move on,” she repeated sadly.

His eyes moved to her. “And you? What will you do with yourself now?”

A smile finally broke out onto her face. “Not getting married for starters.” She watched him shake his head with a tender smile and mouth the word no. “And I guess. I guess I’m not going to temp anymore. I dunno. Travel, I suppose. See a bit more of planet Earth. Walk in the Dust. Just go out there and do something.”

He nodded shortly. She’d be a good traveller, he decided. A good fit to join him in the TARDIS and help him to heal his sore and aching hearts. 

“Well, you could always…” he paused.

Her smile faltered, but it was still there. “What?” she asked almost silently.

“You could always come with me.” He strode to the doorway again and looked up to the POLICE CALL sign above the door. “See all time and space. Really travel.” He turned his head to look at her. “You’ve seen it out there, Donna.” His eyes pinched in wonder and his voice was thick with emotion. “It’s beautiful. You’ll love it.”

She shook her head. “No.”

His hearts fell, and so did his chin. He looked down to the tarmac of the road. “Okay.”

“I can’t,” she added with sincere apology. “I’ve. I’ve got people and things to do here.”

“That’s fine,” he assured her with false nonchalance. 

“No, but really,” she asked, her eyes narrowing and her head tilting with concern. “Everything we did today. Do you always live your life like that?”

Time to lie. “No. Not all the time.”

“I think you do,” she accused. “And I couldn’t. Not like that. Not all the time.”

He opened his mouth to argue.

She didn’t let him get a word in. “And you. The way you stood there, not caring that she was dyin’.” Her look of concerned deepened. “Not carin’ that you could die as well.”

He opened his mouth to argue.

Again she went on. “I’ve only known you a day, and I’m already worried about you, and what you’re capable of. You’re playing a reckless game…”

“Donna,” he tried for interruption.

“You need to find someone,” she continued. “To stop you. And soon, because if you don’t..”

“Donna!” he growled finally. Leaning back in thanks to the heavens and then to that damned howling wolf that wouldn’t let up that she had finally stopped talking. “I’ll be fine,” he assured her. I promise.”

“I really don’t know that you are,” she disagreed. She looked back toward the house, and waved to the smartly dressed man peering out through the living room window. “But you know what? Join us for Christmas? Mum’s already planned for an extended group this year with Blondie and the kids.”

The Doctor’s eyes lifted to the window. He saw Donna’s grandfather Wilfred playing with the two youngsters and shook his head. “Nah. Thanks, but Christmas dinner? Not really my thing.”

She slapped gently at his arm. “Oh don’t be like that. You told me you did it last year…”

“Last year was different,” he countered hoarsely.

“She really meant something to you, this friend of yours, didn’t she?” She watched his sad nod. “You loved her.”

“Still do,” he admitted. “Always will.” He thumbed toward the door of the TARDIS. “Maybe I should head off now.” His nose screwed up with faux disgust. “Before you get accosted by the family and I get dragged inside to join you.”

“It’s not that bad,” she pressed and held out her hand. “Come on. I promise you that if you join us, you’ll forget everything else. And I think you need it.”

His soulful and sad eyes fixed on her for a moment, and while he considered appeasing her by agreeing, saying he just needed to shift the TARDIS, but would take off instead, he couldn’t do it. Not to her. Donna was someone special, and someone he knew he would grow to care for deeply if given the chance to do so. 

But she didn’t want to.

“I really have to go,” he said again. “I’m really sorry, Donna. But I can’t. I just can’t. Not yet. Not so soon after…”

“I understand,” she assured him with a nod and a sympathetic smile. “Will I see you again.”

He winked and gave her an honest and thankful smile. “If I’m lucky.”

“Me too,” she breathed. He moved to walk away and she stopped him with a call of his name. “Your friend,” she asked him, holding her question until he faced her completely. She saw immediate sadness and heavy emotion cloud his eyes. “Your friend you lost. What was her name?”

His voice was thick with emotion and shuddered as he spoke. “Her name was Rose.”

“Don’t ever forget her, Doctor,” she warned him. “Let that name keep you fighting.”

“I will.” He curled around the door and disappeared.

Donna watched with her hand up to shield her eyes like a hat when the TARDIS howled, and then shot up into the sky as a streak of blue and flashing white.

A curious, and very surprised voice called to her once the TARDIS had disappeared completely from view. “Donna? Are you okay?”

Donna’s hand dropped from her eyes and she let out a very defeated huff. “Rose, hi.”

Rose Tyler pulled hair from her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. She struggled to control a single wolf at the end of a leash tugging incessantly to keep moving. “What happened? I thought you’d be off on your honeymoon right now.” She tugged hard on the leash. “Tiallu, settle down, please.” She looked up again. “Sorry, she’s not used to being without her mate.”

“That’s him howling like he’s a pack all on his own?”

“I’m sorry,” she whined. “I can’t walk them both at the same time by myself, but I need to get them out. Neither of them do well when they’re away from each other.” She petted the wolf’s head. “Once Tiallu’s home, he’ll quieten down. I promise.” 

“It’s okay, Rose. Really.”

“But what about you?” She looked her over. “You look like you’d had a day.”

“Oh, Rose. You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”

Rose smirked. “Try me.” She thumbed to the house. “Need to talk about it?”

“I’d really rather not,” she admitted with a huff. “Not unless I want to be institutionalised.”

Rose pursed her lips. “Well. Did you want to get drunk then? Brax brought some Scantifum from his estate. He’s offered to look after the kids for a few hours, and I’ve baked a fresh magnolia fruit pie.” Her smile brightened and she held out her hand. “What’dya think?”

“Scantifum?” Donna queried with a smirk.

“Special reserve, half a century aged at Mount Peridition.”

Donna looked down at herself. “Got some slouch for me to wear? I don't feel like wearing this much longer.”

Rose gave her a wink and started to walk toward her home. “For you, Donna. Always…”


	16. Domestics Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year into their marriage, the Doctor and Rose seem to be settling into a more domestic lifestyle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day where I really shouldn't have written. But I got a really scathing review over at FFN that would have upset me had it not been clear that the commenter was an Anti-Rose person who really just hated it for hate's sake... 
> 
> ...Oh to have that much available time on my hands...
> 
> So rather than get upset and stop writing altogether. I said: Sod you, I'm going to write a chapter that will piss you off more ... pure domestics! This is part one of married life in the Doctor-Rose household... so for those of you who are still onboard with me, enjoy!!
> 
> As for how doesn't he remember? I've got a plan in place and it isn't exactly a lame River Song thing where she forces the Doctor to forget ever meeting her...

~~oooOOOooo~~

Bright orange sunlight filled the open kitchen and dining room. The song of birds filtered in through an open window, tinkling off a silver windchime and dancing off the walls. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and a freshly baked pie finished off the symphony of a mid-morning Gallifreyan day.

Rose Tyler gently set the hot pie dish on a small black grill in the middle of the breakfast counter, smiling at the intricate vine and berry pastry design that lay across its top. Perfectly golden and surrounded by bubbling orange Magnolia juices, it was a masterpiece – even if she had to say so herself. She pulled off her soft pink oven mitts and set them down palm to palm on the white and silver marbled countertop.

This should be a perfect little pickmeup for the Doctor, who had over the last several months become just that: An actual medical practitioner! Oh her mum would be so proud…She’d be on the phone to Bev in a heartbeat to brag about how her lil’ Rose just bagged herself a doctor. A surgeon, even!

Of course here on Gallifrey, that occupation came with far less stature and respect than it did back on Earth. But heading up hospital at Arcadia, oh he was happy, that was all that mattered.

“Perfect,” she purred with self congratulations as she untied the back of her horribly frilly pink apron and let it slip off her shoulders.

“Yes,” a sleepy voice gravelled out hoarsely from the doorway. “Yes, you are.”

She lifted her eyes from her masterpiece toward the owner of that voice and let out a chuckle as she crumpled up the apron into a long fold of fabric and threw it over the back of a stool. “And the mighty distinguished Lord of Time finally wakes.” She chuckled and leaned her hands into the table top to continue to admire him from afar. “Looking far less distinguished and regal than the title would suggest.”

Messy, shirtless, sweaty, and wearing a pair of loose pyjama pants that were skewed to the point of discomfort, he couldn’t exactly disagree with her. He let one side of his mouth lift into a smirk and sniffed in deeply as he dropped his hands to adjust the seat of his trousers. He scratched at his chest and padded on bare feet toward the counter. “That was a very long thirty six hours,” he groaned out pitifully.

She put on a sympathetic expression and held up a mug of steaming black coffee. “My poor baby,” she purred out. “Coffee will make it all better.”

He didn’t reach for the proffered beverage. Instead, he walked around the counter and slid smoothly up behind her. He ran his hands from her thighs to her hips, and with a flick of his grasp managed to turn her to face him. He growled against her neck and grabbed hungrily at her rear.

He hummed. “I know what would work better than coffee,” he snarled out as he sought her mouth with his. 

“Morning breath,” Rose peeped out with a squeak and a laugh as she struggled away from him. She continued to laugh at his defeated groan and slouch as she walked to the other side of the counter. “You’re in no condition for game play right now. You need some rest.”

“Not without my Human blanket,” he corrected with a pout of his bottom lip. He held out his hand. “Come back to bed with me, Rose. I haven’t seen you in nearly two days, and I really need to snuggle and remind myself why I’m alive.”

“You,” she challenged with a point of her finger. “Don’t intend on sleepin’.”

“Not if I can help it,” he answered with a shrug. He offered her the most boyish, desperate expression. “I need you, Rose. I need my wife.” He exhaled a sad breath. “Last night was tough, and I just need _you_.”

Sadness creased her face. “I take it it didn’t go well?”

He pressed his hands into the counter, lowered his head into his shoulders and let out a long sigh. “Unfortunately, no. Not at all.”

“I’m sorry,” she offered sympathetically. “You had such positive hopes.”

“Positive medical outcomes aren’t always a definite thing,” he admitted. “When a Time Lord is on his 13th incarnation, it makes it so much more difficult to have a successful outcome.” He lifted his head. “Residual regenerative energies interfere negatively with any life-saving efforts, there was nothing I could do.”

She walked around the counter and slid her arms around his waist. She pressed her ear into his chest, sighing when his arms came around her gently. “You did your best, Doctor. And just remember, for that rare one you lose, you save a hundred others.”

His voice fell to a whisper and he rested his chin in her hair. “That doesn’t make it easier.” He sighed. “Especially after such a long surgery.”

“Was he a good man?” she asked softly.

“He’ll be remembered as such,” he answered. “As they always are. Death does tend to erase the indiscretions of their life in the eyes of those left behind. They’re planning a provincial service for next week.” He shifted the hold of his arms. “And have already applied for a looming permit to make up for their lost cousin. It should be approved by Romana over the next day or so.”

“They didn’t waste any time, did they?” she remarked with wide eyes. “Not takin’ any time to grieve.”

He chuckled. “Grieving a loss in the manner your kind do isn’t commonplace on Gallifrey,” he lectured softly. “The only thing they might grieve is the loss of a cousin on council. Their status in society falls.” He shrugged. “That is unacceptable amongst most chapterhouses, so they loom a cousin with the most desirable traits for a new council member at an age where they can fast-track academy studies to reclaim their status.”

“Chapterhouses and Looming,” she breathed out curiously as she pulled away from him and swiped his coffee from the counter. She held it to him again. “Tell me about them?”

He sighed when he took the coffee, but took a long draw from the mug and settled with a lean of his hip against the counter. “It’s a very long history and will take a long time for me to explain it to you and have you fully understand it.”

“If you dare think of adding that you don’t have enough crayons…”

He bellowed out a laugh. “No, darling. I have far more awe and respect for your rather high level of intelligence thank you think I do.”

“Wish my teachers at school felt the same,” she came back with a sigh. “Whole lot of ‘em thought I was brainless. Mum, too, when I brought home my report cards.”

“I happen to find you quite brilliant,” he countered. “But then again, for someone who only made it through the Academy with a score of 51, well…”

“I’m smarter than you, then,” she said with a chuckle. “My last year, I came through with a 65.”

“Well there you are then,” he chuckled, lifting his coffee mug in salute. “My wife, far more intelligent than me by a whole 13 percent.” He lowered his voice. “And you think I’m rather bright, don’t you?”

“You have your moments,” she purred cheekily. Her lips pursed with interest. “So these looms, that’s how you have babies here on Gallifrey?”

“Used to be,” he answered. “Long story short, several millenia ago, a curse was put upon my people. Gallifreyans became a barren race. In order to keep our society alive and continue to grow, Rassilon and the founding Time Lords created looms that were capable of producing offspring.” He set his mug on the counter and folded his arms across his chest. “Put simply, they were a progenation device capable of very quickly producing offspring either by a combined DNA set of two parents, or a cloning of just one. Mostly, they pulled together the more acceptable and preferred genetic strains of multiple donors to create the ideal subject.”

She frowned. “I see.”

“The success of the looms, and the almost immediate production of a …a child, I suppose you could say .. led to a birthing boom that required the council members to enact some pretty strict rules on numbers. Which meant seeking permission.”

“How very sterile,” she breathed with wide eyes. Those wide eyes looked toward him. “So you and Brax, you were loomed?”

He nodded. “While my mother did wish to conceive and carry as they do on Earth, she was unable to give my father children in the conventional manner. Both Brax and I were loomed with permission from council. He was the equivalent of a teenager when he was loomed. Me, I was a child.”

“Not even babies?”

He shook his head. “Not preferable to my people,” he admitted. “Screaming babies unable to do anything including lifting their own heads for month on end was – as they felt – inconvenience and a rubbish waste of time. Looming an older offspring meant less sleepless nights.”

“That’s horrible!” she exclaimed, her hands flying to her mouth. “So you’re saying that you’n me … that we can’t?”

His eyes widened. “Are you saying that you want to?”

Her mouth flapped a little as she considered her answer. Her eyes were wide with indecision.

He saved her having to answer by answering hers. “We can certainly have ours in the traditional fashion,” he said brightly. “Leela and Andred conceived naturally, and the Gallifreyans living in the outerlands have been procreating that way for quite some time. The medical community have theorised that the infertility that cursed the Time Lord society was mostly psychosomatic. Once Leela fell pregnant, more couples followed suit. Now we have fully staffed midwifery units at the hospital.”

“Yet people still intend on looming?”

He nodded. “Best way to produce the perfect offspring,” he said with a shrug. “Habits do really die hard, and I won’t argue. Many of the people I find myself having to treat on a daily basis really should have no right to procreate naturally, stuff-headed excrement of woprats.”

“It would also mean engaging in the reprehensible act of mating,” Rose teased. “Such a filthy endeavour.”

He grinned. “And let’s hope that none of them learn otherwise.” His eyes rolled. “Lest my planet be inundated with tiny individuals running rampant because their parent believe them to be the angelic sole saviours of society and therefore require no actual discipline. Stars forbid anyone tell them otherwise.”

“you’ve just described the people of my planet,” she said with a chuckle.

“Despite your people being able to produce the occasional brilliant Humans who will never cease to impress me… I rest my case.” His eyes fell down to the counter, smirking at her indignant gasp of mock offence. “What’s this then?” He queried, his eyes on the pie.

“My masterpiece,” she sighed with pride. “Magnolia a’la Rose Tyler.”

“Lungbarrowmas,” he corrected gently. “At least in the eyes of council. You might have other ideas on our naming structure.”

“Happy to wear your name, Doctor,” she said with a smile. “Honoured, actually.” 

She walked toward the counter and placed her hands either side of the pie dish. Still warm, but no longer burning hot, she was able to turn it to allow him to see the design she’d so intricately created. “Romana managed to be able to pick up some supplies from earth for me on her last envoy trip with Brax, and so I thought I’d make pie.” Her grin was proud. “What do you think?”

The look on his face was one of unease and suspicion. “It’s very pretty,” he managed. “What’s in it?”

“Magnolia fruit,” she stated eagerly as she walked around to the draws to take out a pie slice and a fork. “I added a few of my favouite spices from back home, cinnamon, vanilla…”

His look of suspicion shifted to one of distaste. “I can’t imagine that combination is any good.”

She cut out a slice and put it on a small place. She picked up a fork and lifted a small mouthful of fruit and pastry. She held it to him. “Try it.”

“Ahh. Not really hungry right now,” he muttered as his face shifted back and his face further contorted with distaste. “Maybe later. Much. Much later.”

She shook her head. “It’s better when it’s still warm.” She held her hand underneath the fork to prevent the morsel of food from falling on the counter and presented it to him again. “Please, Doctor. Just a little taste.”

“Really, Rose,” he said pitifully.

Her face creased into hurt. “But it’s Magnolia,” she whimpered. “It’s your favourite. And I’ve been workin’ on this all morning.”

“There are so many better ways for you to spend your time,” he countered. “Than to murder Gallifrey’s most perfect offering in that manner.”

Rose slumped, definitely and undeniably hurt. “Fine, then. Don’t. I. I’ll eat it all myself. Just see me try and do anything else special for you.” She dropped the fork back on the plate and huffed dramatically.

Okay. This was not good. He had managed to upset her, and that was really not how he wanted this day – his first full day off from the hospital in a month, and the 12-month anniversary of their marriage, to go. No, they were supposed to be in bed all day, enjoying their partnership and perhaps taking their love outside under the meteor shower this evening in the orchard.

He had plans, That was how he wanted the day to go.

Upset Rose meant his plans were to be derailed. And his job, right now, was to make her not-upset and shower her with adequate affection and make up for being the prat that upset her. 

With a deep inhale to draw in strength, he snatched the fork from the plate and shoved the entire bit of pie into his mouth. He held his breath in an attempt to block his taste, but as soon as the warm juices hit his very taste-sensitive tongue, the flavour exploded to fill his senses completely. Almost immediately he let out a long moan of unadulterated pleasure.

“Oh by Omegal, Rassilon and the Other,” he purred out around his mouthful. “Rose. When I’m wrong, I rarely admit it, but right now I’m going to.” He dug the fork in for another bite. “This. This is incredible.”

“Yeah right,” she huffed with a curl in her lip. “Don’t go thinkin’ you’re getting out of it tha’ easily.”

“I’m actually serious,” he scoffed with surprise at himself as he forked in another mouthful. “This is really good. Better than good. More like right up there with TARDIS travel in the Vortex and making love with you.”

A smile crossed her face at that moment. She walked toward the counter. “Sayin’ that its better than sex is a bit much. But I appreciate you trying.”

“I said _up there with love making_ , not that it was _better_.” He managed with a mouthful. “Speaking of,” he managed after a swallow. “You think you might be interested in a little of that later today at some point?”

Her brows lifted. “You want me to add it to your calendar?” she muttered dryly. “How’s your schedule looking for around 2:00pm? An hour good enough?”

“Very cheeky,” he shot back with a smile. He looked down at his plate. “I’m quite serious though, Rose. This flavour is very unexpected and really quite good.” He forked in another mouthful, chewed, closed his eyes, and purred. “My affection for it is rising exponentially. Really getting up there now.”

With a smirk she gave him a wink, and a lick of her plump lower lip. “So if I told you to put that fork down and get your near naked butt back in bed with me?”

The fork stopped partway to his mouth, which was open and ready to receive. His eyes were wide and had a very _caught_ expression that also showed a decent amount of indecision.

“Oh. My. God,” Rose breathed out with shock. “You actually have to _think_ about it?”

His eyes were still wide and his lower lip had now begun to search out the fork. “No,” he sang.

“Oh well,” she sighed with facetious upset. “I guess I’ll just have to lie alone, then.”

His wide eyes blinked and his jaw gaped low. A low chuckle emanated from deep inside his chest as she disappeared into the hallway. Oh, he was totally in for this game plan.

Another bite of the pie first.

“Oh, Doctor…!”

He swallowed before he’d chewed it thoroughly enough, and he gagged and winced as the too large piece travelled down into his throat. “Coming!” he croaked out hoarsely.

He jogged toward the hallway and then paused. “Oh sod it,” he muttered as he jogged back to the counter, swiped the rest of his piece of pie and shovelled it into his mouth as he finally followed his wife’s calls to the bedroom.


	17. Domestics Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...Rose is bored, lonely, and in need of a vacation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short snippet time. Had enough of fluff ... needed some excitement. So I set some up.
> 
> Squeeee! This will be fun to finish off tomorrow ... although it's a holiday here tomorrow ... that might not be an option....
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

~~oooOOOooo~~

There was a curl of annoyance in her lip and a growl in her voice as Rose Tyler shoved wiry branches out of her way on an overgrown pathway in the forest. Either side of her, two wolves padded with silence, although on occasion there would be a shared gruff and huff between them. They were on patrol, she knew it; both acting on the orders of her husband to make sure she was safe. No matter where she was, in the orchard, in the kitchen, at market, in bed … they knew their duty, and they never wavered off that task – because her husband demanded it.

Her husband that was supposed to be travelling with them today. Her husband who had arranged for them all to go out together today. Her husband who got a call from the hospital and then abruptly cancelled their plans for the day. Emergency case from the Capitol…

She understood. She really did. But that didn’t mean that she had to be happy about it. 

She felt a bump and kick underneath her ribs and stopped to circle her hands over her swollen belly, heavy with the child of the man she was currently cursing. She let out a moan of discomfort, and was immediately accosted by the female wolf, huffing and nosing at her bump to ensure all was okay. She petted the wolf’s head with thanks.

“The little one’s okay,” she assured her. “Just has restless feet like his dad. He’s running a marathon in there.” 

The wolf nosed again to be sure, and finally satisfied, she turned back to resume her walk at Rose’s side.

This past couple of months had been without a doubt: very lonely. A staff shortage at the hospital, and a gastric epidemic from the Cerulean Chapterhouses had kept the Doctor and all of his staff extremely busy. On the rare occasion he did make it home, he almost immediately collapsed in bed and didn’t wake until it was time to leave again.

The epidemic had been winding down, and the Doctor had promised her that he’d be able to take a week with her and maybe take a trip to Southern Gallifrey for a last vacation before their child arrived. Alas, it wasn’t to be. They only hade it a half hour into his first day off before his phone started ringing and he had to transport away.

She sighed heavily. She’d seen more of Romana and of Braxietel than she had the Doctor, and while the pair of them were very fascinating company, they weren’t her husband. There was no way at all she’d be able to talk either of them into a foot or back rub like she could him – if he was awake long enough of course.

Tired of being housebound and alone, she decided to take a walk on her own. He’d promised her a picnic at Crystal Cascades, and so she was going to make sure she got there, and then, when he got home, she would regale him of her trip with the kids, and let him get all mad that she didn’t have either Romana or Brax accompany her….

…such was his protectiveness since they’d conceived seven months ago. Overprotective micromanaging of her entire life now more like it.

She was definitely frustrated. She was also sore and uncomfortable… and she was definitely very lonely.

She could hear the rushing waters of the cascades off in the distance, and immediately she imagined stepping into the water, sitting in the pool, and taking the pressure off for a while. Oh what kind of heaven would that be?

Her desire for such comfort moved toward a desperate want within seconds. She quickly increased her pace to get there as quickly as possible. At her side, her wolves also quickened their pace, walking much closer against her as though to urge her to slow down and take it easy.

“Oh come on, you two,” she muttered with a sigh of annoyance. “We’re on a safe path. We’ve been down here plenty of times before. What kind of trouble do you think we can possibly get in to?”

The universe answered that question for her. There was a loud, thunderous sound that she could only describe as rubber tearing hard against rubber. There was a loud hiss of escaping air, and then a wave of heat so powerful that it took her breath from her chest and burned at her light cotton dress.

Her instinct was to wrap her arms around her belly and protect her unborn child. The instinct of her wolves was to brace a protective stand ahead of her and snarl a dangerous warning growl to whatever it was that was threatening the safety of their mistress. Their growls were so threatening and intimidating, that even she was finding her slightly fearful of their wrath.

“Settle,” she asked them quietly. 

The weren’t about to settle, and their attention was sharp, as a badly damaged airship howled loudly above their heads, its engines spluttering and flaming in a desperate attempt to remain in flight.

Rose and the wolves stumbled to remain standing in the strong wake of the failing engines, and as the engines finally gave up the craft fell to ground with an almighty thunderous howl that send out a massive shockwave that sent all three of them tumbling off their feet. Rose fell to an awkward knee and pressed her hand into a tree trunk to try and get back up to standing. There was a secondary shockwave as an engine exploded, its shockwave splintering the tree at the base and collapsing the hillside below it.

She yelled out loud as the moving rocks and soil took her along with it. She fell to one side, curled into a ball around her child and hoped to all that both of them would survive this tumble intact. The female wolf was caught in the slide at her side, but her mate was free and unharmed. He leapt nimbly left and then right, howling and barking out his own language of concern for them both.

The Doctor’s name was in her mind as she fell. She called to him. Pleaded for him to catch her, but that help didn’t come. The slip finally ended with a crash up against a rounded metal hull, and Rose followed quickly behind, her head colliding hard with the metal, he skin splitting against the pressure.

And then all went silent.

She didn’t pass out. She knew that for sure. The silence was merely the ending of disaster, and all that was left now were the occasional tinkle of random stones, and the crackle of angry flames.

Rose pressed both hands into the metal, hot to the touch, but not quite searing in intensity, and pushed herself backward. She was dizzy, and her eyes unfocused, and it took her all not to turn and retch out painfully.

“Kids,” she whimpered quietly. “Kids, are you okay?” She blinked in a struggle for focus and looked around for the bright blue-white fur of her beloved wolves. There was snuffling and a pained whimper from one, and the worried huffs from the other. She thrust out her hand to clutch at thick fur and scratched behind his ears. “You’re okay. Thank God you’re okay.”

A wet nose pressed up against her belly and was rewarded with a swift kick from the child within. Rose smiled gratefully and rubbed at her belly. “And you too, little one.”

She lifted her head high, still very unfocused, and tried to survey just where they were and what the hell had happened. Well. What happened was obvious enough: A ship had crashed.

But which ship, and just how many people would be injured.

“We have to help,” she sang out worriedly to the wolves. “People could be hurt.”

She petted her pockets in search of her phone. “I’ll call the Doctor. Maybe he can send out a team.” The petting of her pockets was paused as she lifted her hands to hold at her head. Oh, but it was swimming.

Blindly patting the air at her side for a wolf’s head to give her grounding, she was alarmed to hear the both of them ahead of begin to growl and snarl in that dangerous, threatening manner that scared even her.

“What is it?” she asked them worriedly, not surprised to feel one of them back up to push her backward with his rump. “What’s wrong girl?”

There was a familiar whirring. A whoosh. A pair of sounds that scared her more than any snarl and growl from one of the wolfs could emit.

“Oh no,” she breathed out worriedly. “Please. Please not now.”

A familiar, emotionless, gravelled robotic voice sounded out loadly from ahead. “Halt! You have entered the new territory of the Daleks. Identify yourself.”


	18. Daleks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose faces off against the Daleks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Family Day Ontario!
> 
> I shouldn't have stolen a couple of hours to write today, as it is family day and I should be hanging out with them ... but they're all on laptops and iphones and .... sigh ... why not I do the same, yeah?
> 
> I am floored and awed by all of you who have chosen to comment. For those offering advice, I love you ... thank you for sharing your advice and your own tales. And of course, to you who chose to leave me a little comment to say "I'm still with you", you're bloody awesome too. :)
> 
> We're storming toward the meatier bit of the tale, so for those who made it this far thank you! I hope you enjoy this little bit, and I hope it raises some questions....

~~oooOOOooo~~

Of all the times to be queasy and unfocused because of a decent knock to the head, now wasn’t it. Rose staggered to a stand, both unbalanced by her swimming head and the uneven tilt of the rockslide, She stumbled once and grabbed almost blindly at the air around her in search of something to hold her steady. She found that steadiness in the sharp and jiggered broken limb of a tree that had fallen with them.

Ahead of her the wolves continued their aggressive growling and snarling. She could hear the sharp scrape of their claws on the rock, primed and ready to fight. Rose wasn’t ready to tell them to stand down, although it would be the more obvious thing to do right now. If her sore head wasn’t attempting to trick her, they were facing off against Daleks – a species ready to exterminate anyone and anything that got in their way without mercy and without a second thought.

“Who – Who’s there?” Rose stammered out as she pushed herself from the tree and staggered in between her growling and protective companions.

“Identify yourself,” the metallic voice demanded. “Identify this world.”

She blinked through her blurriness and focused on a Dalek standing just outside the ship doors. It’s metal casing was scratched and tarnished, the round domes of its skirt dented and torn.

“You’re a Dalek,” she announced flatly as though it was the most painfully obvious thing in the world. 

The Dalek lifted its ray but didn’t fire. Instead it scanned her top to toe. “Human,” it declared emotionlessly. “You are Human.”

“Very much so,” she muttered under her breath as she took a step forward, close enough to her protective wolves that their violently flashing and waving tails hit against her knees. “Why’re you here?”

“Identify this planet,” it demanded. “Location needs confirmation.” It turned to another Dalek that had trundled out of the door behind it. “Confirm species Human,” it advised. “Is this Earth?.”

“Negative,” the second Dalek offered. “Navigation systems indicate landing on Gallifrey.”

“O-Obviously there’s a problem with your nav,” Rose offered. “Human,” she clarified with a point at her chest. “Which means Earth.” She winced at the continuing growls and snarls from her wolves. The sound, although not altogether unwanted, were starting to drill against her aching head. “Kids. Please.”

“You will quiet your animals,” the second Dalek demanded. “Or we will exterminate!”

Rose rushed in between both animals and tried vainly to press them back behind her. Neither of them were having any of that, though and rushed either side of her to have their heads and noses ahead of her protruding belly. She certainly didn’t have the strength that they did, and she groaned out as she tried to pull them back. “Please don’t hurt them. They’re just protecting me.”

“Then we will exterminate,” the second Dalek announced as it lifted its ray.

Rose Rushed forward, stumbling on a tree root, to collide with the Dalek with her hands outstretched ahead of her. “No! Please. No. They can’t do you any harm. Leave ‘em alone.” She heard a buzzing nose beside her – not unlike the whirr of the Doctor’s sonic – and flicked her ehad around to the first Dalek. “What’re you doing.”

“Secondary scan complete,” it confirmed. “This human is with child.”

“Yeah, because the huge gut doesn’t make that obvious,” she growled. “And that human, is right here. You wanna talk about me, then talk _to_ me.”

“Binary vascular system,” it continued. “The child is Time Lord.” It turned to Rose. “Explain.”

Her brows lifted. “I had sex with a Time Lord and got pregnant,” she fired back with a shrug. “Thought that much might be obvious.”

“Is this Gallifrey?” the Dalek asked again. 

“You tell me,” she growled in reply. 

The wolves continued their incessant growling and snarling but had now begun to snap their jaws angrily in threat. There was no way that Rose would be able to calm them down, and so she gave up on even trying. She did try to step out from in between them, but the animals had moved to stand so closely together that she wasn’t able to break free of their protection.

“The animals will be silenced!” the first Dalek warned. “Or they will be executed.”

The second Dalek seemed to agree. “The Human will come with us.”

“The Human will not,” Rose muttered. “An’ if you try and hurt my wolves…”

“Exterminate!”

Rose yelped out and dove in front of the wolves, both of which yelped out in surprise. “No! No! Please don’t!” She held up her hands. “Just. Just let me get rid of them, okay? I’ll come with you, just please don’t hurt them.”

The ray dropped and Rose spun to crouch in front of the wolves, both of whom wore expressions of confusion. “Get help,” she ordered them quietly. “Go find him, get …” She knew that saying his name might cause upset with the Daleks and risk them running riot through the streets in search of him. “Get Thete,” she said instead.

The wolves passed their front paws left and right. It was clear that they were confused and not understanding what Rose was saying to them. Her words shifted to Gallifreyan, still stilted and heavy with her Human-English accents. “Help me,” she pleaded. “Find him, find anyone. Just please get out of here.”

“We wait no longer,” the Dalek warned. “You will come with us.”

Rose stood up and gave the two beasts a nod. “I’ll be okay. Just find him, please.”

Without further urging, both wolves ran up the slip to the jagged shelf that hung at least 20-feet above her. They howled and lunged at the cliff’s edge, their snarls and growls still threatening and dangerous. 

“Go!” she called up to them.

The female gave a long howl that was matched by her mate, and then both of them disappeared quickly. Rose let out a breath of worry, not quite believing that this would be as easy as Lassie trying to convince people that little Tommy was stuck in a well. Those two animals were amongst the most feared species on the planet. People would more likely run from them than approach them and ask what was wrong. Her only hope was that they’d make it to the Hospital to get the Doctor’s attention…

…Although the hospital was in Arcadia – a day’s run for both of them. She’d be long dead before then.

Her only hope was that they’d pass by the homestead and by some miracle the Doctor would already be home.

Unlikely, of course, given the most recent emergency calls. But she could hope. She rubbed her swollen belly. The both of them could hope.

“You will follow us,” the Dalek ordered.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Coming.”

The second Dalek to leave the ship turned and rolled back through the doorway. The first made sure to stay behind her and poke her in the back with its ray when she wasn’t moving fast enough.

“Careful,” she growled hotly with a twist of her head to look over her shoulder at it. “Pregnant woman, remember, not as nimble on my fees at you are on your wheels.”

“Move,” it demanded.

As a trio they walked in through the steaming doors and deeper inside the ship. Her eyes scanned their walk, noting each turn they made in the hope that she could somehow escape and find her way to freedom. The last thing she needed was to get lost in a Dalek maze where the dead ends could literally mean that she’d end up dead. They did pass several Daleks involved in repairs and uninterested in the Human being escorted by two of their own. Then again, no emotion meant no natural curiosity .. she shouldn’t have been surprised.

Their journey ended where Rose assumed was the very centre of the ship. The narrow corridors opened up to a large and cavernous domed room. The walls were a brightly lit and orange intermittently flashing washes or reds from a red alarm signal light at the very centre of the dome.

“Damage report,” the lead Dalek demanded. “Can we send coordinates to the mother ship?”

“Negative,” another Dalek responded quickly. “Errors in multiple systems. Communication is impossible.”

Rose let out a breath of relief at that. This would give the Gallifreyan forces time to pull together and hopefully storm the ship.

“Can it be repaired?”

“It can be repaired,” came the response. “Dalekanium Crystals need to recharge and then we will be fully operational.”

The Lead Dalek turned back toward Rose. “You will lock yourself at the wall,” it demanded, rolling into a slight turn to indicate the wall to the south side of the room.

Rose looked toward the wall, and to a rather basic looking chain and cuff apparatus affixed to a small loop from the ceiling. She looked back to the robot with a perplexed expression. “Whatd’ya mean I’ll lock _myself_?” She quickly rolled her eyes at her own question upon realizing that with no hands by which to lock her in there themselves, she would have to be the one to do it. Stupid really. “Yeah,” she huffed. “No need to answer that.”

“Immediately,” it ordered her. “You will lock yourself or you will be exterminated.”

“Why don’t you just go ahead and do it?” she muttered through a curled lip that was wet with blood and tasting very much like rusted iron. She lifted her fingers to her head and felt the fluid warmth of blood coat her fingers. “Oh God,” he muttered woosily, never one to quite handle the sight of blood – particularly when it was her own.

“That is an order,” the Dalek ground out again. If she didn’t know better, that these creatures were completely incapable of emotion, then she’d hazard a guess it was getting quite frustrated. “Lock yourself now.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” she managed with a blink of one eye to complete a wince of pain and dizziness. “Jus’ gimme a tic.”

She made it to the wall and snapped the cuff around one wrist. It snapped tight and startled her enough that she lost her balance and stumbled onto her hip. The pull of her wrist kept it high in the air above her head, and she flopped off to one side, hanging, yet sitting at the same time.

“What do you want with me?” She asked finally, looking through a bloody fringe. 

“You are with child,” it answered. “A Time Lord child.”

“What, you don’t exterminate pregnant women?” she asked with a small smile. “Well that’s good to know.”

“With or without child, you will be exterminated,” it warned her. 

“Just not yet,” she murmured. The blood was rushing from her arm, and she felt the chill of it get into her bones. Pretty soon it would be numb, and therefore useless to try and get free.

“A Time Lord will not allow the death of an expecting mate,” it answered. “You will be kept until the ship is operational, and then you will be exterminated.”

“A bargaining chip,” she deduced with a sigh. “Yeah, well you don’t know them very well if you think that’ll work. Not exactly a sentimental bunch these time Lords.”

“You are being deceptive,” it challenged. “We know the Doctor, he is Time Lord.” It waved its weapon as though a dismissive hand. “The Doctor is sentimental.”

Rose’s eyes flashed wide at his name.

“The Human’s heart rate has increased,” another Dalek cut in. “She knows the Doctor.”

The first Dalek rolled quickly toward. “You are a companion of the Doctor?”

Her eyes widened. “No,” she said firmly. “I am not a _companion_ of the Doctor.”

“The how are you with a Time Lord child?”

“Wow,” she sang out. “You ask me that like he’s the only Time Lord capable of havin’ kids.” She writhed slightly in search of comfort on the hard and unforgiving metal floor. “Trust me, he’s not the only one with a workable set on this planet.”

“So you confirm that we have landed on Gallifrey.” It was a statement, not a question.

“If you want to call that _landing_ ,” she muttered. “Then yeah. Alright.” Her belly contracted with a heavy kick from her child and Rose let out a very long groan. “I think I need medical assistance,” she said to them in pleading. “Let me make sure that my baby is okay, please?”

“The child is fine,” the Dalek stated. “You, on the other hand have very limited time.”

She sighed deeply. “Why did I think you’d say that?”

“We could take the child,” another Dalek suggested. “And turn it into a Dalek.”

“Inferior species,” the lead Dalek replied. “Not worthy to be Dalek.”

Rose’s arm was ice cold and had now lost feeling entirely. The ache, that had begun to set in shortly after being shackled, was now waning into nothing. Her head, however, that was mercilessly pounding a fierce rhythm against her skull. Her vision continued to shift between clarity and blurriness, and her stomach turned over again and yet again. Consciousness was fleeting at best. She found herself nodding in and out, waving to and fro between deafening pressure and then euphoric bliss.

For several long moments, with her rapidly shifting bouts of awareness, Rose lost touch of what her captives were saying. When the room suddenly lit up to bright yellow over flashing red and orange, her attention was locked once more.

“Communications systems back on line, Commander. Full outreach capability to mother ship will be achieved in three minutes.”

“Notify the mother ship of Gallifrey’s coordinates. They must fall into battle formation and prepare to attack. Gallifrey must fall.”

“Exterminate the Time Lords!”

“Exterminate!”

Rose lifted her head to once again look through a blood-stained fringe toward her captors. “And what about me?” she asked tiredly.

The lead Dalek rolled over to her and lifted his ray. “You no longer prove useful. You will be exterminated.”

“Then do it,” she challenged quietly. “Just do it.”

There was a flash of amber in her eyes and the disapproving lilt of a disembodied voice fell from the dome above their heads. “I really don’t think so.”

Death ray weapons lifted to the ceiling. “Who is on our ship? Identify yourself.”

The words whispered across the deck, swimming through the robots and spiralling upward. “I am the Bad Wolf…”

“…And you’re here far too early….”

A cry to exterminate rumbled through each and every Dalek on the ship. Death rays buzzed and sang in the air, firing aimlessly at nothing.

Rose watched with tired eyes and hard panting as her breaths. Confused, delirious, and wondering just what kind of nightmare she was living, she weakly tugged on her cuff hoping to seek freedom.

Beside her a flashing light indicated an impending coordinate upload to the mothership. In moments and entire Dalek fleet would know how to find Gallifrey.

“No,” she breathed. “No,” she managed more strongly. “No – “ Her chest thrust forward and her head threw backward. A long cry ripped up her throat and out of a gaping mouth frozen into a scream. She felt a gripping pressure in her abdomen and chest, growing and swelling until it finally exploded out of her in a bright disc of light that tore throughout the ship, turning Daleks to dust and slicing apart the lights and control panels.

And everything went dark.

~~oooOOOooo~~

It was a very rare moment when Braxiatel and his wife could walk freely hand in hand. Such was their stature amongst the Time Lord Society, any display of affection was deemed inappropriate and would incur rumours and accusations that wouldn’t serve either of them well. Mutiny was always just a rumour away, and it was never worth the risk,

One of the delightful things about spending time with his brother’s wife were the moments available to him to be able to offer his own wife the small gestures of affection that would make her smile and remind the two of them that they were now – and always will be – deeply in love.

His hand was tenderly wrapped around Romana’s much smaller fingers as they walked slowly from where their transport had delivered them. He wanted to walk with her a while. To experience the exhilaration of walking through the warm and sunny countryside of Gallifrey. A pleasure that he had long forgotten about in a life locked in council chambers. 

Romana was more than happy to walk, and to talk, wrapped up together as they should be as a pair in love. 

Their walk had been slow, and tender, with neither of them wanting to burden the moment with words and conversation. As their destination appeared in the near distance, the cottage belonging to his brother and his wife, Braxiatel began to loosen the hold of Romana’s hand in preparation to be met at the door by what he cold only assume would be a very unhappy and angry Rose Tyler.

At least that’s what Thete had warned him to be ready for when he’d called in the request to go visit. His brother, bless, was an apologetic mess. An argument between husband and wife had been the last contact he’d had with her before disappearing in a transmat beam.

She hadn’t answered any of his calls since.

“Do you think Rose will be in a better mood than the Doctor assumes?” Romana asked with amusement. “Or do you think that this will be an afternoon where you and your sister in law can trade stories of how he is an inconsiderate fool?”

Braxietel smiled at the possibility. “Don’t suggest such a delightful option,” he cautioned her. “Especially when we know it will most likely end up as an afternoon where you will get weepy and broody over her baby bump and send me out on errands to make the both of you happy.”

“I do not get weepy, nor broody, Brax,” she countered with a smile. “My request to for you to sire me a child is not as close as you would like it to be.” Her face fell. “There is far too much ahead of us to make plans for a family.”

“And so we live vicariously through the life of my brother – the one who should never allow his seed to be sown into another.”

She bumped him with her shoulder. “Admit it, Brax. You are very happy for him, and for the Human girl who you care about much more than you care to admit.”

He opened his mouth to offer his obligatory argument against that charge, but was swiftly silenced by the urgent approach of two very dangerous animals. He pressed his hands into Romana’s belly to keep her hidden behind him. “Dahrama!” he called out. “Stay back!”

The pair of wolves bounded down the path, both of them with dark soot and dirt covering their usually pristine blue-white coats. One ran with a noticeable limp, and the other with a fierce purpose.

“Brax,” Romana yeloed out as she moved around him. “They’re Rose’s pair.” 

Braxiatel’s eyes widened with immediate concern. “Where’s Rose?”

Romana ran toward the two animals, scooping herself into a low stood to lower herself to a more respectful level to address them. Her words shifted into light huffs and howls, and in a moment her head and mouth were chasing two very anxious and restless Wolves as they paced and pawed and answered her questions.

Braxiatel moved in quickly beside his wife and leaned down as well, despite not having anywhere near enough respect for the animals to give them such courtesy.

“Romana?”

Her head shot up. “Rose is in trouble. We need to follow.”

He nodded and was on the run behind the swiftly moving wolves within a second. He petted his waist cast pockets in search of his phone. “Let me call Thete.”

“And tell him what?” she asked him, her breath steady even though she ran hard at his side. “Best we wait until we know what condition she’s in. We don’t need to worry him if this is something we can handle.” She looked back ahead of her. “I’m sure we can handle it.”

The wolves took off too far in front and had to stop multiple times to look back and let out huffs and barks for the two of them to hurry up. Braxiatel held off snapping at them, but flicked his wrist to tell them to go ahead and that they would follow.

Up ahead of them, a searing, slicing sound wooshed. The sound was swiftly on approach, and Braxiatel quickly grabbed at Ramona’s arm to bring her to a stop. The sound rushed closer. Ahead of them, the wolves, both nimble and strong, were knocked off their feet and onto their sides as the sound barrelled past. Braxiatel held onto Romana as the sound rushed through them as well.

Romana let out a sharp cry and fell against her husband. His own knees faltered under the shockwave, but he was able to hold them both up until the wave finally rushed away from them.

“What was that?” he asked worriedly.

Romana shook her head. “That was pure Huon energy,” she half whispered. “A full wave of the most ancient and almost non existent energy.” Her eyes were wide with horror as she turned toward him. “There is no known concentration of that level of Huon in that quantity anywhere in the universe.”

“Oh holy Rassilon,” he replied worriedly. He took his wife’s hand and tugged her urgently toward the direction that the wolves had started running again. “If Rose is caught up in that, it’ll kill her.”

She breathed out a long moan in the negative in response, and quickly she fell into pace beside Braxietel.

In a moment they both skidded to a halt at the edge of a crater’s path. Deep below them was an horrifically damaged ship, on fire, and dented almost beyond recognition.

…Almost unrecognisable. Both Time Lord and Lady knew exactly what ship had half buried itself in the soft Gallifreyan forest soil.

“Dalek,” Romana growled darkly.

Having only heard of them, but never actually encountering them, Braxiatel didn’t hold the same sense of morbid fear that Romana held toward the Daleks. He looked to her and then down tp the ship, where both wolves had immediately head. They disappeared into an open door.

“Rose is in there,” he ground out. “Is there any chance at all that she’s still alive?”

“Rassilon, I hooe so,” she growled as she leapt over the edge and slif on her feet down to the ship. She felt Braxiatel slide down at her side. “Because if she’s not, your brother will destroy this universe in search of the entire species to wipe them out.”

“I hardly see that as being a detriment.”

“After he’s taken out you and I both for not protecting her to begin with.”

“That,” he breathed out as he pulled a small firearm from his pocket. “Is a very good point. Now please, if you will, stay behind me.”

“I will not,” she admonished indignantly.as she stepped around him. “I have far more experience with them than you do, so you will follow _me_. That is an order from you President.”

His voice fell to an annoyed whisper as together they entered the dark and dormant ship. “As you wish, Lady President.”

The immediate anomaly noticed by Romana was how deathly quiet the ship was. She could sense no hum of engines, and no form of lighting – even that of emergency lighting – at all. It was dark, and far too quiet for her liking. Her foot kicked the occasional mound of silky dust, the scent of which was laced thick with residual Huon energies and dissipated as quickly as it appeared.

She frowned and looked back toward her husband. “Brax. Something just isn’t right about this. This ship is a battle scout craft and should be fully staffed with Dalek warriors. But I’m finding nothing. Not a peep, whir, or rumble of them.”

Braxietel nodded. His face set in a frown. “The outer hull is still burning, which means this ship crashed very recently, yet there are no operational, or even residual electrical waves present to indicate any active, or recently active systems.”

“Abandoned,” she remarked, “and left to fall? It makes no sense.”

Their walk finally led them into the centre of this ship, and to the high dome of the command deck. Again, it was deathly quiet and unmanned. Romana did note the amber fluttering of random particles in the air, but could find no reason for it. She followed the last of the shimmers, which seemed to concentrate near one wall, and to where the two wolves were whining and pawing at the floor with urgency.

“Brax!” she called out urgently, flicking her arm in a demand for him to follow. “She’s over here!”

Romana’s voice caught hard to see how Rose was awkwardly tethered to the wall with only one arm, and was flopped off to one side, not able to lie her head down, but unconscious and hanging.

Brax stood tall to unfasten the tie, and Romana held her as Rose’s body was released and fell hard to the ground.

“Is she…?”

“Alive,” Romana assured him. “But badly hurt. We need to get her medical transport immediately.”

Braxiatel lifted a phone to his ear. “I’ll arrange to have her sent to Arcadia. Thete’s there. He’ll know the best way to treat her.”

“She is not to leave the hospital under any circumstances,” she ordered. “Don’t let him remove her until I issue the all clear. I want to know what happened here; how she ended up shackled and tied in a barren Dalek ship.”

“Thete won’t like it.”

“He has no choice.” Romana ordered. “And while you are with emergency services, arrange a cleanup crew. I want this ship dismantled and destroyed before the Daleks have a chance to trace it.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

The Doctor pulled off his thin surgical gloves and tossed them with annoyance into a nearby bin. His throw was slightly off, and they hit the wall, and then the corner of the bin before finally flopping in. He tugged uncomfortably at the neck of his yellow and crimson scrubs, desperate to be free of them.

“With permission of everyone else on the planet who might get sick, I’m heading out,” he announced with annoyance. “I’ve had about enough of snot and mucus and people who don’t listen to their doctor’s orders.”

A pair of nurses chuckled with agreement. “Have a good night Lord Doctor,” one of them wished with a flirtatious wave. “See you in a week?”

“If I’m lucky,” he said with a wink. “You won’t see me for two.”

“A trip with Rose?” one asked with a light swoon. “Somewhere exotic?”

“That is the plan,” he replied. “I have a lot to make up for, and I’m looking very forward to making those amends. He bowed dramatically. “And so on that note, my dears. Do take care, I shall see you later – very much later.”

The Desk Nurse popped up apologetically from behind her desk, her phone pressed still against her ear. “Lord Doctor,” she called out. “I’m very sorry, but…”

“No!” he growled out with a point of his finger in her direction. “Whatever it is, find someone else. I’m on vacation.”

She dropped the pone and skirted around the desk to make a swift approach. “They’re bringing in an emergency case from a crash site.”

“Someone else,” he repeated.

He looked up as an announcement called through the overhead PA system. “Incoming transport. Crash victim. Severe head injuries and bleeding. Female. Seven months with child. Human.”

His eyes blew wide with horror and he looked down to the desk nurse, whose eyes were misted with apology. “Lord Doctor, I’m sorry. Braxiatel just called it in….”

His hearts fell. “No…”

“Sir, it’s your mate,” she said softly. “It’s Rose.”


	19. Bedsitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose is recovering...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tuesday afternoon quickie!
> 
> Hoping to pull together the next bit to post today as well.... wish me luck, though, because when I let the Doctor get technical - which he will be here - it can sometimes take a minute.... I'm as tech retarded as they come... sigh... My IT support is 14 years old and has a bedtime of 10:00pm....
> 
> I know you probably wanted freakout Doctor and all ... but really, I'd much rather leave a scene like that to the imaginations of my readers. I'd rather fill in the aftermath, myself ...
> 
> Let's see if you can see the special call-out I added in there... :) 
> 
> I sinceriously hope you enjoy!

~~oooOOOooo~~

Her hand was warm, but so limp inside of his. Her breaths, drawing in deeply every three seconds were steady and in perfect rhythm. The beep of her single heart on the monitor bleeped slowly, but not enough to trigger off any alarms – Well that isn’t to say that in the beginning the PA system wasn’t belting out Code Mauve alerts every minute or so – but with a quick flip of his sonic screwdriver on the advanced and expensive monitor he quickly recalibrated it to measure only a single heart beat.

A secondary monitor secured on the highest rise of her belly pinged rapidly with their child’s double hearted rhythm, every once in a while pinging out an alarm when the little one shifted or kicked and the monitor lost signal. Each ping made him smile. It seemed that his youngster was actively trying to evade the invisible soundwave signals to make his father panic.

An apple off the tree if you will…

In all, despite the frenzied terror he felt at seeing his wife bloody, pale, and unconscious on a transport gurney, everything was calm and serene for now. Rose was alive, and her prognosis excellent. Aside from a concussion that was being effectively treated by Gallifreyan technology as she slept, she and their child were healthy.

The greatest of concerns was the high saturation of Huon energies registering on the imaging scanners. The levels she was brought in with should have been fatal for a human, but Rose seemed to be tolerating it quite well. The levels had dropped significantly over the 24 hours she’d been under observation, but they were still high, and still piquing the interests of several members of the outlying radiation regulatory groups. Questions were being asked, and he certainly had no answers for them. He was rather insistent that Rose wouldn’t be answering any of them once she was awake, either. No. he would keep her away from any and all of the marauding vultures that circled her in search of answers. The most important thing was that the levels had fallen, and that she was going to be fine. The where and how of the exposure, well. The two of them would work it out together and then deal with it together - without any curious council agencies sniffing around.

He ran his thumb over her knuckles and then dropped to press a kiss against them before lowering his forehead against his hand. He hadn’t left her side since the moment she was admitted. He still wore the messy, dirty, bloody, crimson and gold surgical scrubs from the day before. His hair was a frightful mess, and he was quite sure that the lack of showering over the past 48 hours was lending him a rather unpleasant odour. A change of underwear was definitely in order if nothing else, but so far his request to Braxiatel to have fresh clothing sent to the hospital had yet to be answered. 

A sigh against her knuckles, and a soft phrase of adoration in his native language drew a sigh from the doorway. The Doctor didn’t have to shift his eyes to see who was at the door. The scent of Farrionville blossom was an immediate giveaway.

“Romana,” he greeted quietly, still not looking at her. He cupped Roses hand in both of his and set his chin atop them to look at the face of his mate. “Thank you,” he breathed. “For saving her.”

“I’m just sorry we didn’t get your message until it was too late,” she offered gently, walking into the room and taking position at the other side of Rose’s bed. She set a vase loaded with Schlenk blooms and silver Cadonwood leaves on the side table. “Had Brax and I been able to make it to the cottage a short time earlier, we could have prevented this.”

The Doctor blinked his eyes. “If I hadn’t spent so much time trying to phone her and apologise, I would have sent my message earlier,” he huffed. “I don’t blame you in any way, so please don’t feel the need to defend yourself.”

“I do feel partly to blame,” she admitted. “It was me who decided that you were the one to handle the Cerulean emergencies and the call from Council.” She huffed. “You’re the best we have on staff, and it was a very…” she cleared her throat. “A very sensitive case.”

“Of a self inflicted manner,” the Doctor ground out. “And hardly something I want to waste my time on. Any doctor could have dealt with that and offered you the appropriate privacy considerations.” He flicked his eyes to her, his annoyance melting into regret. “I haven’t been able to spend any time with her at all, Romana. I see more of this place than I do my home and my wife. You know this. I’ve complained repeatedly about it.” He sighed. “You could have given me the courtesy of being able to keep a promise to her.”

Romana nodded. “And going forward, I guarantee that you will.”

“I’ve taken your grounding here on Gallifrey without argument,” he continued with frustration in his voice. “I set up a life and become domesticated in a manner I promised myself I never would.” He sat up straight, but didn’t release Rose’s hand. “I took this job at the hospital with the assurance that I would still have the freedom to come and go as I please, and with the promise that I would be free to travel again by TARDIS sooner rather than later.” His eyes narrowed. “Funny how none of those assurances or promises have been honoured.”

“Doctor,” she tried.

“Don’t _Doctor_ me,” he growled. “One of the reasons I left Gallifrey in the first place is because of how I get pushed and ordered around by council.” His eyes flashed angrily. “And every time I answer _Mother Gallifrey’s_ call nd do what’s asked of me, council always decides they want more.”

Romana was in no way intimidated nor upset by the Doctor’s rant. She understood his point perfectly – How couldn’t she? Their very friendship was one engineered by council design: forced together, two strangers, teacher’s pet and renegade bad boy…

She held no regret for that at all, no harsh feelings toward anyone. Her friendship with this man was most prized by her. But she had to admit that they were quite fond of controlling the man, and they took whatever they could get from him.

“I’m very sorry,” she murmured. Her eyes swept across the monitors. She didn’t understand all of the readings, the lights, nor the beeping. “How is she?”

“Concussion,” he answered simply. “Head lacerations.”

“But she’ll be fine?”

He shrugged. “Still monitoring the Huon exposure, and what potential long-term effects it will have on her, but I’m hopeful…” He sighed. “Based on the current readings, I’m fairly confident she’ll make a full recovery.”

“And the baby?”

At that he smiled. He reached out a hand to circle the bump ahead of him. “No ill effects at all. Scans show him healthy and boisterous in there.”

“Him?”

He found himself grinning widely. “Rose assumed she was carrying a boy. Scans confirm it.”

Her smile was warm. “Congratulations, Doctor.”

Save the beeping of monitors, and the audible open-mouthed breathing of the patient there was silence in the room. They didn’t speak again for a long few moments, with neither knowing what needed to be said. Finally, however, the Doctor inhaled a deep breath and sat up straight in the chair. His hands still cupped that of his wife.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

Romana chuckled softly. “I wondered at what point you may ask,” she said with a smile. The smile fell quickly however. “I wish I had an answer for you. Brax and I were only there during the aftermath.”

“I was told it was a crash,” the Doctor muttered. “A ship from outside Gallifrey.”

She nodded, but said nothing.

“Which I find rather curious,” he continued. “Considering she seemed to be the only casualty.” His eyes lifted to hers. “I would imagine that we would have far more patients than what was brought in.” His head tilted to one side. “Were they sent to other hospitals?”

She shook her head slowly. “Rose was the only one there.” She caught the mistrust in his eyes. “I assure you, Doctor, I wouldn’t mislead or lie to you about this.” Her eyes flicked toward Rose. “Especially when it concerns her. I know better than that.”

He nodded and expressed a very quiet thanks.

“The ship was abandoned,” she continued. “Not a soul – dead or alive – was detected anywhere in the craft.” She blinked worriedly. “It was completely abandoned.”

He lifted his head to analyse her face. Her voice wavered to the point of worry. “And yet, you’re concerned?”

Her voice was a mere breath. “I am.”

“What ship was it?” He asked curiously. “From what planet?”

She inhaled a deep breath before asking, wondering just what reaction she might get from him. She surely didn’t want to say “Skaro”. The Doctor had a very long history with the Daleks – to that point, so did she.

“I wonder, Doctor, if you would be willing to offer me some assistance?” she managed instead.

His eyes pinched. Romana refusing to answer a direct question was unheard of; therefore it was worrying. Normally he wouldn’t hesitate to offer her any assistance she might need, but he was forming the impression that any assistance might require he move from this bedside – he had zer intention of doing that.

“I’m not leaving her,” he warned darkly. “So don’t ask.”

“It’s important,” she ventured. “I can’t trust anyone else with this.”

His eyes narrowed. “I almost lost her today – my wife – because you couldn’t trust anyone else with a self induced minor medical ailment of a council member. I left her alone at your request, and she almost died.” His breathing was hard and his glare an unspoken threat. “I am not leaving her again.”

Her head shot up at the sound of excited movement at the front entrance of the hospital. She could hear excited yaps and huffs and the ticka ticka of sharp claws on ceramic tile. “Sounds like Brax is here.”

The Doctor looked toward the doorway. “And I hope with a fresh change of clothing as I requested,” he huffed. “Rassilon knows I’m getting on the nose here. Hardly the condition I wish to be in when Rose wakes.”

Romana gave him a smile. “You smell fine. Rose won’t mind at all what condition you’re in, as long as…”

“As long as I’m here,” he reminded her firmly. “As in not leaving her again.”

“This will be discussed,” she warned as the flurry from the entrance doors finally made it into Rose’s room. She jumped backward with eyes as wide as her mouth, when two large white beasts burst noisily into the room. The Male immediately sought out the Doctor, and snuffled his hip and lap excitedly in greeting. The female was at Rose’s side, her front paws up on the mattress, and her snuffling nose sniffing desperately at her prone form. Up her chest and then down, past her hip. When satisfied, the wold let out a short whuff to her mate.

Together they let out a howl that swam and echoed throughout the hallways.

“Will you quiet the both of them down. Rassilon if they aren’t a boisterous pair.” Braxiatel snarled from the doorway. Although pristinely attired, he looked frightfully exhausted and roughened. He held up a garment bag. “As requested, Thete. A change of clothing. Not what I would have selected for you, of course, but your TARDIS was quite insistent on this outfit.”

His face broke into a relieved grin. Moving around his still excited pair of wolves, he approached his brother and took the garment bag from him. “Thank you,” he said with honest relief. He unzipped the bag and noticed that the TARDIS had provided him with the grey pants, silk vest and green velvet jacket that he preferred. Far more preferable, indeed, than the tailored pinstriped suits worn by his brother. “Perfect,” he purred out.

There was a small dividing screen at the side of the room, and the Doctor quickly disappeared behind it to get dressed. He thankfully threw his dirty scrubs over the top of it as he undressed, scrubs that were swiftly joined by a pair of worn boxer briefs. Now naked, but wriggling into a fresh pair of boxers, he popped his head around the screen. “Can’t help but notice she’s wearing a pink bow,” he remarked with a just of his chin toward the female wolf. “Care to explain?”

“I would not like to explain,” Braxietel muttered with a lift of his hand to smooth out his hair. “But as I know that your curiosity will eat you alive, I bathed them before bringing them here.”

“You did what?” the Doctor exclaimed as he walked around the screen wearing only his trousers and an undershirt. He continued talking as he slipped his arms into a white cotton button-up shirt. “How in Rassilon did you manage to give a pair of Dahramas a bath?”

“By standing behind a shield and holding a pressure washer at them,” he huffed. “They were filthy, and there was no way I would be bringing them here in that horrendous state.” He smiled toward the female. “I thought a pretty pink bow would finish off the look.” He smiled at her. “And she likes it, look at her.”

The Doctor pursed his lips and looked toward the Wolf, who was actively scratching at the bow with her paw to get rid of it. He leaned in toward his brother as he finished buttoning his waistcoat. “How many times were you bitten?”

Braxiatel moaned. “You truly don’t want to know.”

“Actually,” he corrected with an open mouthed grin. “Yeah, I do.”

Braxiatel simply rolled his eyes in response and assisted his brother in pulling on his jacket. With a sniff as the jacket was seated properly on form, he brushed across the Doctor’s shoulders. “There. Now that you are dressed more appropriately for your station, shall we be off?”

The Doctor frowned. “Shall we be _what_?” Before Braxiatel could answer he held up a hand and shook his head. “I’ve already informed Romana that I am not leaving Rose’s side. I don’t’ quite care how important you think this favour of yours is, I’m not leaving her alone.”

“You won’t be leaving her alone,” Braxiatel argued, thrusting a hand toward the two wolves who were settling themselves quite nicely on the gurney and the chair beside the gurney. “She’s got those two keeping an eye on her.”

The Doctor shook his head.

Braxiatel didn’t let him argue. “I had to seek very special permission to have these two brought in,” he growled. “Dahramas are not exactly welcome in hospitals due to the fact they’re quite frequently the reason people are here in the first place.”

And I thank you for delivering them to us,” the Doctor answered with a small bow. “Rose will be thankful to see them when she wakes.” He lifted out of his bow. “But I’m still not coming with you. My wife – my _pregnant_ wife – needs me, and I’m not leaving her.”

Braxiatel looked around him at Rose sleeping silently on the gurney. “She’s asleep,” he remarked. “It’s not like she’s going to miss you.”

The Doctor’s mouth dropped. “Be Rassilon, Brax. Are your really _that_ insensitive?”

“Indeed I am,” he answered with a shrug. “And I must remark that I am somewhat stymied by your unwillingness to participate in the examination of the wreckage in which we found your wife – especially considering it was a Dalek warship.”

Romana dropped her forehead into her palm, breathing out her husband’s name in a long suffering manner. Across the other side of the bed, the Doctor took on a more darknened and dangerous expression. “I’m sorry,” he seethed. “Did you say Dalek?”

Braxiatel looked toward the Time Lady at the other side of the room. “I thought Romana explained that to you,” he half queried with a look of apology toward his wife. “Didn’t you?”

“I was getting to it,’ she breathed out in reply. Her eyes shifted toward the Doctor. “Rose was found inside a Dalek battle craft,” she advised him as gently as she could. “She was shackled inside the main command deck….” She paused to inhale. “Alone.”

The Doctor’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean _alone_?”

“As in there were no Daleks onboard,” she answered carefully. “You and I both know that a Dalek ship is never left unmanned. Even when docked, there is always at least one soldier onboard.”

Braxiatel took up the explanation from there. “When we found Rose, there wasn’t a Dalek to be found onboard at all. Search and rescue did perform scans of the entire ship, and no signs of life were present.” He huffed. “Thete, there weren’t even any dead or injured ones. It was empty – except for Rose, completely empty.”

The Doctor’s brows pinched together and his eyes narrowed. “Surface scans around the crash site?”

“Have yielded nothing,” Romana answered quickly.

The Doctor started to pace. “If what you’re saying is true, then there is a very high probability that we have Daleks loose on Gallifrey?”

Romana nodded. “That’s my fear at any rate.” She walked around the gurney and moved toward him with what looked to be a smooth glide. Once in front of him, she put her hand on the doctor’s elbow. “I understand your need to be with Rose right now, Doctor. I truly, truly do.” She exhaled a shaking breath. “But we are at risk of our people being attacked by Daleks. Worse, that the ones loose on Gallfrey have notified their mothership of Gallifrey’s location.”

“No one knows them like you do,” Braxiatel added. “They fear no one like they do you.”

The Doctor shot his brother a look, but said nothing.

“Romana and I need your help in analyzing some of the ships main communication components in the hope that we can find out just what we might be up against here.” He sighed. “We need to find some way of being able to know what’s coming, and hope to Rassilon we have enough forces to be able to stop them.”

The Doctor looked toward the bed where his wife lay. His eyes fell into a soulful expression at her silent and unmoving condition under the sheets and thin blanket. His eyes shifted to the bruising around her wrist, the purple and red mass that encircled it almost completely – a perfect replica of the shackle that had caused it. Anger rushed into him at that moment.

“I’ll help,” he breathed out darkly. “But I have one condition.”

Braxietel remained firm as his brother’s furious eyes dragged across the room to look at them both, and his lips curled with disgust. “Name it,’ he vowed. “And it’s yours.”

“You will let me destroy every last stinkin’ one of them.”

~~oooOOOooo~~


	20. Investigation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor, Romana, and Braxietal do some investigating....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look! Two in one day!
> 
> Love it when this happens and things flow so nice that I give myself carpal tunnel and pump out a couple of chappies... 
> 
> As always, thank you for your awesome support and comments.
> 
> I very much hope you enjoy.

~oooOOOooo~~

When the Doctor had left with Romana and Braxiatel to attend the crash site and analyze the debris, he fully expected to be taken _to_ the crash site, not to a large warehouse at the edge of the Capitol. He had no time nor inclination to hide his frustration, and let it be known to them both the moment they walked into the room.

“I thought,” he began with a snarl. “That we were to be attending the actual site of the crash. Unless the Daleks have manufactured a way to materialise them into a crash scenario, this isn’t it.”

“The Gallifrey Transportation and Safety Board are still onsite at the actual crash location,” Romana answered. “Because of the sensitivity of Dalek technology, and the chance that we could ignite a full system restore, I felt it was to our benefit to have the ship transported here in pieces – specifically the security and communications hardware.”

“Makes sense,” he said with a snort. “Although….”

“There is no purpose for us to attend the site,” she countered before he could finish his thought. “How the ship crashed is not my concern as much as what danger presents outside of it.”

The Doctor prepped to argue, and to demand once again that he be allowed to destroy any of the Daleks that may have escaped the ship, but that argument was sucked back into his chest with the sound of more parts materialising neatly at the back of the room. His eyes blinked at the careful way the part was tagged and numbered with a large Red and yellow tag.

“Expect more of that,” Romana warned him gently. “It was a big ship with plenty of parts – and the analysis teams have been instructed to piece it back together here.” She paused. “Once we are finished with our own examination, of course.”

“How did you get permission from the GTSB to allow us to look at the evidence before they got a look in?” he queried as he looked over the various items set up on a long, metal, workbench. “They can’t be happy about it.”

“The GTSB operate under council guidelines,” she answered with a shrug. “They can dislike my orders as much as they like. I’m the Lord President on Council, and they have to do as I tell them to.”

She wandered toward a large monitor laid on its side beside a small dusty keyboard with a sucker-mark etched around the keys. “I believe this is the security monitor for the main communications deck,” she remarked coolly as she swept her hand in the air above it to shift off some of the dust. “The lines did connect to a series of cameras set strategically around the ship. I ordered the feeds for only two of them – the front entrance and the main command deck.”

The Doctor turned up a nose and poked a finger at the dusty and disused item. “Doesn’t look like it’s had a plunger on it for quite a while,” he murmured. “While I’m sure they aren’t fully adept at frequent dusting around their ship, This…” He tongued the roof of his mouth with disgust. “This looks like it’s a bit beyond missing a weekly here and there.”

“I know,” she agreed softly. “It’s as though the ship was completely abandoned.”

The Doctor’s lips pressed together into a scowl and he shook his head. “Yet I don’t buy it for a moment,” he growled. “Jettisoning a ship and allowing their technology to get into the hands of other species? They’d have it self destruct instead.”

“Do you think you access the security database and see the last recording?” She poked at what looked like a joystick. “That should give us some insight into what happened to force them to abandon ship.”

“Huon, likely,” Braxiatel offered. “Their species is sensitive to it – as most are. If they managed to slip into a Huon wash, then it’s likely they abandoned the ship in order to survive.”

There was the sound of another piece of debris materialising toward the back of the room. The sound actually made all there of them jump slightly.

“Is there any way we can stop them doing that?” the Doctor asked with a wince. “It’s very distracting.”

“So distracting that you haven’t even begun your analysis,” Braxiatel remarked coolly.

The Doctor flicked annoyed eyes toward his brother. “So you are clear on the methods by which I work, Brax, I do tend to analyse with my eyes before I introduce my fingers.” He held up his hands and waggled his fingers for effect. “And what I can tell you right now …” He sucked in his bottom lip and took a second to quickly take a visual stock of things. “Is that these systems were not shut down by manual means.”

“Meaning?”

The Doctor pulled his sonic from his jacket pocket and scanned it over the monitor and keyboard. His bottom lip was pursed outward and his cheeks full of air as he waited for the results to show. When they did he nodded knowingly. “Just as I thought.”

“Which would be?” Romana queried.

“Whatever took out the system – at least this part of the system – was a blast of some form.” He wandered toward another part of the desk and collected a small computer box and a handful of wires. “Depending on the type of blast, there’s no guarantee that I will be able to get any part of this operational again.”

“Please try,” Romana pressed worriedly, watching as he moved through the debris picking up odd bits and pieces as he went. “I have to know just what we have on our hands here.”

His eyes flicked up warily. “And is there any reason why you are so worried, Romana?” He dropped his eyes again and used both hands to pull open the box. Small screws shot out either side of it as they gave way and popped. “Daleks are a rather nefarious and nasty brute, but they can be contained if we are smart enough.” His smile stretched to a grin. “Which I am.”

“Modest too,” Braxietel muttered quietly.

“Dalek forces have been gathering strength over the past decade,” she admitted. “They’ve been fairly quiet, I have to admit, but as you and I both know…”

“It means that they’re up to something,’ he finished. His eyes lifted from the circuit board in his hand. “What are the matricians saying?”

“Not much,” she huffed. “Not very much at all.” She waved her hands. “Time is in flux right now, and no path is clear…”

“Except the me having to stay on Gallifrey thing,” he said with an unimpressed growl. “That path is crystal clear in their minds.” He looked back down at the circuit board and set it on the table, leaning forward with a handful of wires. His elbows were on the table as he carefully soldered wires down with his sonic. “Any idea yet why Rose is so important to this?”

“Probably to keep you grounded so you don’t run off,” Braxiatel offered with a shrug. “Something’s coming, Thete. I can feel it – we all can -- and admit it or not, when the going gets tough, the Doctor gets running.”

He lifted his eyes in a roll. “Funny you should say that, when I’ve routinely stuck around to get dirty and save things like, oh, like planets, solar systems, the universe.” He blew a puff of air onto a solder point to cool it. “Council seems to think I have the ability to get the job done, considering they never stop asking me to do their dirty work.”

“I’m being quite serious, thete.”

“So am I.” he declared as he straightened up ups back and reached across for another wire. “Whatever it is – this major event on the horizon – as soon as my wife is cleared to leave Gallifrey, we will depart.”

Romana’s voice was quiet. “Are you sure that’s what she wants?”

His eyes flicked toward her.

“I mean no disrespect, Doctor,” she said quickly. “But the two of you are building something here: a life. Together. Do you really think that going back to gallivanting across the universe putting yourself and your family in danger is what she wants?” She sighed. “And is it what _you_ want?”

“It’s better than being tied up in a hospital for days on end and never seeing her,” he gruffed. “And by all accounts, it does seem that she’s jeopardy friendly enough that even being on Gallifrey is dangerous for her.”

“You can make a difference here, Doctor, a _real_ difference,” she pleaded. “The universe needs you, but then, so do we.”

“Be careful, Romana,” he breathed out. His eyes blinked for clarity as he attached a powerpack to the circuit board with a pair of soldered wires. “Your sentimentality is unbecoming for a tenured member of council.”

“I blame you for that,” she accused softly. 

That made him smile. “Thank you,” he said softly.

He finally stood up from his cobbled together circuit board and looked to his brother with wide eyes of hope. “Well. It’s messy, it’s rough, and it might blow us all up, but let’s see if I can get us something decent to watch on the telly.”

“Blow up?” Braxiatel hissed with worry. “Should we back up a bit?”

Romana put her hand on his arm and shook her head with a smile. “Be calm,” she said with amusement. “He’s only jesting.”

“Am I?” the Doctor asked.

Brax growled. “I can never tell.”

The Doctor offered a wink to the pair. He then took a long stride backward and aimed his sonic at the monitor. With a press of his finger on the switch, he let the device buzz to life. The monitor flickered, it went cold, then it flickered again. “Come on,” he urged as he took a step forward and pressed the tip of the device into the centre of the monitor. With a hum, and then a rush of sound, the monitor lit up brightly to show a terrifyingly high def feed of a command deck full of life … and full of Daleks.

“By Rassilon,” Romana breathed out. “The ship is full!”

Braxiatel shot a glare of panic toward his brother. “Thete. Do you have a time stamp on this recording? How old is it?”

The Doctor shook his head, his eyes wide and equally as horrified as the two Time Lords beside him. “I don’t know, Brax, But if you give me a minute, maybe I can…” He stopped short as the Command deck of the Dalek ship began to shake and shudder. Control panels sparked and many of the Daleks began to roll around with urgency.

“They’re at the transduction barrier,” Romana blurted out, as one of the Daleks sounded out warning of approach to Gallifrey. Her head flicked to the Doctor. “The barrier would render the ship incapable of flight, but it wouldn’t destroy all systems like this.” She gasped. “Doctor, there has to be almost a hundred Daleks in there!”

“There are 550 Daleks on any battleship,” the Doctor growled darkly.

“Rassilon,” Braxiatel huffed out. “Which means we have that many of them in the forests of Gallifrey.” He went for his phone, but the Doctor stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

“Just wait,” the Doctor cautioned. “Let’s see how this plays out, first.”

“Are you insane?” Braxiatel yelled. “See how it plays out? The quicker the better, man.”

The monitor showed the Command deck in panic as the ship hurtled through the transduction barrier and down to the ground below. All three of them jumped back as the monitor shook with the final collision on land, as though they were on the deck itself. Surprising all of them, the command deck was still alive with Both Daleks and systems as the crash came to an abrupt halt.

“This ship is still active,” Romana remarked. “But how?”

“That’s the question,” the Doctor agreed as he leaned down with an elbow on the table to watch the feed. “That’s the question indeed.” He watched closely all of the movement on the screen, deciphering the glyphs of Skaro, and reaching his own determination of the state of the ship. His chin was in his hand, which made talking slightly uncomfortable. “To the best of my knowledge, Dalek technology doesn’t contain any form of Huon energy,” he managed. “And if they did, I don’t know that they’d know how to wield it without killing themselves.” He rose to a stand and pressed both hands into the table. “Based on the damage we can see here to the ship’s controls. I can only guess that somewhere, and somehow, they had to have initiated a weapon and fired it like an EMP blast across …” He huffed out. “No. Yes. Maybe. No.” He clutched at the table’s edge. “It makes no sense. None of it.”

“A blast makes sense, though,” Romana offered. “When Brax and I were chasing the wolves to find Rose, we both got hit with a Huon blast.” She looked toward Braxiatel. “Knocked the both of us off our feet.”

The Doctor looked toward them. “That could be important. If they’ve determined how to wield Huon to make themselves invisible to our scanners…” He stopped when the feed from the deck showed Rose being escorted onboard. His hearts fell into his stomach. She already had a trail of blood from the wound on her head. And her gait was very unsteady…

…They’d hurt her before she even made it onboard.

Her name passed through his lips, and he felt himself falter as she tethered herself with the shackle and began a very Human battle of wits against the pepper pots from Skaro. Part of him was filled with pride at how calmly she was taking her imprisonment, and how she didn’t let the threat of extermination mar her efforts to insult and off put them.

“She’s got fight in her,” Brax muttered.

“She does,” the Doctor agreed quietly, trying hard not to focus too much on his wife’s perilous predicament, and trying to hear the discussions between Daleks. He had to find out where these creatures were. He wanted to find every single one of them, and remind them why they called him the Oncoming Storm.

Not a single one would survive – he’d make absolutely sure of that.

He felt Romana’s hand tenderly cover his as the command deck quietened and he hear Rose, with a failing voice and failing consciousness as what was to become of her. When she was told she was to be exterminated, and his beloved wife told them to go ahead and do it, the Doctor couldn’t shield the sob that drew from his throat.

“She made it out, Doctor,” Romana reminded him. “She’s safe.”

The monitor lit up brightly, the orange shifting to a brilliantly blinking yellow. There was a voice, a two-toned disembodied voice that fell from the walls beyond where Rose’s beautiful human voice would be able to reach. It told the Daleks in no uncertain terms that they were not going to harm Rose Tyler today.

“ _Who is on our ship? Identify yourself_.”

The voice shifted wo a whisper of warning, a ghostly tune that promised destruction. “ _I am the Bad Wolf…_ _And you’re here far too early.”_

Panic on the deck ensured at that moment, with the Daleks firing their rays any which way they could. The shrill sound of them filled the warehouse, and made each member of the three Time Lord party cringe and shudder.

Against the wall, Rose struggled weakly to free herself. She looked left and then right, her head shaking as she breathed out the word “no” several times.

And then, amidst it all, this tiny, injured human suddenly let out a fierce cry of her husbands name. Her chest thrust forward and her head threw backward. The cry carried on, loud and strong, until she no longer had air left in her lungs to expel it. And then, in a moment, her entire body tensed out and a bright disc of light tore throughout the ship, instantly turning Daleks to dust where they stood and slicing apart the lights and control panels… the feed cut out.

The three Time Lords stood staring at the now dark monitor with varying expression of horror on their faces.

“What did I just see?” Braxiatel murmured worriedly. “Tell me that I didn’t just see that.” He looked to the Doctor. “Tell me that I didn’t just watch your wife explode…”

“And wipe out every single Dalek on that ship,” Romana finished.

The Doctor was utterly silent, and incredibly still. His eyes were wide on the darkened screen, but the vision of Rose exploding with Huon energy wouldn’t escape him.

“Thete,” his brother urged him. “What’s going on. What is she?”

“Human,” he croaked with a wince in his brow. “She’s human.”

He pointed at the darkened monitor. “No human is capable of that, Thete. None.” He lifted his hands to clutch at his hair. “By Rassilon’s Robes if anyone on council sees this.”

“No one can see this,” the Doctor breathed almost inaudibly. “No one…”

“Doctor,” Romana warned when he lifted his sonic to the contraption on the table. “That may be the only evidence we have to prove that there aren’t any Daleks…” She yelped and covered her eyes with the spray of sparks and metal as it exploded under the pressure of the Sonic. “Doctor!”

“Make something up,” he snarled. “Tell them anything that doesn’t involve what you just saw on that feed.”

“But!”

“They see this,” he warned. “And they’ll weaponize her.” He turned and raced to the door, desperate to get to the transport to take him back to his wife.

There was no way this would be kept in the dark. The GTSB techs would no doubt cobble that thing back together, and they’d see exactly what he just saw … and they’d take her from him. Take her and turn her into a weapon.

He was not going to allow that to happen.

Forget the order from council that he be grounded, and bugger them if they think he wasn’tcapable of enough jiggery pokery to be able to bypass any damn controls they’d tampered with on his TARDIS. 

He was getting them out of there… As far from Gallifrey as he could take them.


	21. Trying to Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor runs...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to break this one up because it was getting too long -- that and multiple interruptions that was, like, messin' up my flow, man... Bringin' me down... Rest will be up tomorrow. (and then a lighter sidebar chapter with our beloved lad in Pinstripes - to take a breath)
> 
> Anyhoo... Is this a precursor to anything? Maybe. Not tellin'
> 
> And just a note: You will see that I oftentimes switch between North American and British spelling. For that I apologise. Aussie born and raised, but having now lived up in the Great White for more than a decade or two, I tend to mix them up now... I should tell you the story of how I was Rose Tyler before Rose Tyler was around -- when I took the hand of a handsome stranger, left it all behind, and ran.... and have never looked back! Well, except when I want Vegemite or Tim Tams... or VB .. or Chicken Salt ... or when it snows ... But nah, you don't need to hear about that...
> 
> Anyhoooo. As always, I love it when you reach out and let me know what you think. :) I really do. Smooches to all of my readers, and snogs for the comments!
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

~~oooOOOooo~~

Something about what Braxiatel had said to him rang true: When the tough got going, the Doctor ran.

Oh, he couldn’t wholly argue that line. He did have a habit of running when things became too much … But that really did only apply to hm when it involved Gallifreyan matters. It was difficult to explain just why it was that this planet hit him so hard between the hearts like it did, and why he could so easily run from them, but never anyone else in need.

Well, okay. That wasn’t entirely true. He could explain it very well and very simply, in fact. Gallifrey and her children could hurt him like no other. Facing peril on any other planet in any part of the universe really did only have one truly negative outcome: Death. Death in its purely physical form. On Gallifrey, he risked death of another nature: Of spirit – which was so much worse.

Gallifrey was like the family member to him that he preferred to see only a sparse few times a year, holiday get togethers and such. Enough to keep that affection alive, not enough to want to punch it in the face. A relationship that has strength only because you don’t see each other. Getting along better when they don’t see each other kind’ve thing.

That thought was in his head as he burst out of the warehouse, leaving his brother behind in his wake, cursing out phrases normally benign, but rendered explicit with the replacement of just one word. How would old Rassilon feel to know his name had been replaced with one of the filthiest words a Gallifreyan could utter?

For _Rassilon’s_ sake, indeed, brother.

He was swift to slam open the door to the capsule, and curl around it before it had opened completely. He had the thing swinging back to slam shut after the return bounce from the hard opening. He pushed hard on the door, ensuring that he heard the lock snick in place, and then rushed to the centre console. He had the coordinates to the hospital – and more specifically Rose’s room – entered into the nav system and pulled on the dematerialisation lever before he’d managed to exhale a full breath. He set his hands on the console and looked up at the rise and fall of the centre column as the relative dimensional stabilizer whined and wheezed through dematerialisation.

There wasn’t even a hiccup between dematerialisation and materialisation at the hospital. The entire trip took less than ten seconds. He didn’t even wait for the final low thumping boom indicated that materialisation was complete before he was out the door and into a darkened room filled with beeps and bored yawning of two Dahrama wolves.

“Hello, children,” he muttered in greeting as he petted their heads with a light push to try and make his way past them toward the bed. “Play later, right now, we have to get Mum safe.” He finished with a pair of huffs, which stood both animals down. He jutted his chin toward the waiting grey cylindrical travel capsule. “Wait in there for me.” He hiccupped and shook his head. “No, better yet. Stand guard at the door. Don’t let anyone in. If you see my brother: tear his face off.” He then moaned. “No. don’t’ do that. Just scare him a little or … or _something_. I’ll leave it to your imagination.”

The wolves both tilted their heads with confusion at him. Ut with a wave of his hand, they both padded slowly to the door, their heads turning back to look at him with curiosity before they finally sat on their rumps and watched the hallway ahead of them.

The Doctor moved toward the bed. He switched off any monitor that would ping any form of alarm, and then slid his arms underneath Rose’s back and legs. “Come on Darling,” he cooed gently. “Time to take a little trip.”

The jostling movements as he pulled her in against his chest stirred her. With a moan she blinked opened her eyes just a slit. “Doctor?”

The confused hoarseness in her tone made him shudder, and he paused just a moment. He gave her a broad, yet very fake, smile. “It’s me. Good morning sleepyhead.”

She wriggled against him and blinked to open her eyes wider to better survey the room. “Where am I?”

“With me,” he answered her. “And that’s all that matters, yeah?”

“Well yeah,” she said with a wince. “Of course.” She exhaled hard. “Why does my head hurt?”

He pulled her hard against his chest and lifted her from the bed. His lips pressed against her hair as he walked them both briskly into the capsule. “You had a little knock to the head, Rose.”

She let him carry her and rested her head against his shoulder. ‘ _Just_ a knock? Feels like I got hit with a sledgehammer.” She looked around. “Am I in a hospital?”

“Yes, Rose,” he answered gently. “You needed a Doctor. I just so happen to be one. One who works in a hospital. Seemed the best place for you. Now hush, please.” He stepped in through the door and let out a sharp whistle. Immediately the two wolves rushed in. “Shut the door,” he ordered as he settled Rose comfortably into a soft jump seat.

The male wolf kicked at the door with his hind leg, and bounded up to stand beside the Doctor as his mate circled around where Rose was seated. Each obviously had their priority and made sure to stand close by.

The Doctor took only a second to pet the male on the head before reaching for the controls of the small transport. A short-range capsule, it was not nearly as cavernous as his own TARDIS, but it would do for now. Just a short hope to his home, and he’d shift all of them into the TARDIS destination: anywhere that wasn’t within Gallifrey’s reach.

Part of him was quite excited by that prospect. It had been a while since he’d pulled back on the old girl’s dematerialisation lever and opened the doors to destination unknown. The Relative Dimensional Stabiliser wheezed out its song and the Doctor turned toward his mate.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

“Confused,” she admitted with a furrow in her brow. She lifted sleepy eyes to his. “Last thing I remember is getting’ caught in a landslide and then being…” She winced while trying to remember. “Oh, why can’t I remember?”

“Don’t fret,” he cooed gently. “It’s really not important.” He looked up with a smile as the column stopped shifting, indicating materialisation at their home. “What is important,” he said with his eyes up above, “is that I’m on vacation now, and so the two of us…” He looked down at the wolves. “Well, make that the four of us, will be taking a trip!”

He ran to her and scooped her up again in his arms. “What do you think about that?”

Her eyes narrowed, and continued to be narrowed on his face as he walked them out of the capsule and headed directly to the open, waiting door of the blue Police Box that was parked in the corner of their living room. “You seem awfully excited.”

He set her down onto a very comfortable armchair, her legs over the armrest and her back against the other side. “I haven’t really seen you over these past couple of months,” he rushed out as he threw a crocheted lap blanket over her legs and pressed a chaste and hurried kiss to her forehead. “And I just _need_ to spend some time with you.”

She smiled, but there was suspicion in her eyes. “I’m really not in any shape to go travellin’ right now, Doctor. Is there any chance you can maybe let me sleep off the headache for a bit first?”

“Oh,” he sang out as he ran to the console and slipped off his coat. He hung it on a monitor that hung from a long cable attached to the ceiling. “Why wait, my dear? Why wait at all? The TARDIS has plenty of comfortable beds for you to rest in…”

“Why’re you in such a hurry?” she questioned warily.

He pulled his sonic from his pocket and dropped down onto his knees at the console. “Because I’d like to be out of range of Gallfirey and the hospital’s infernal communications system before the next dire emergency can have the chance to take me away from you?”

“Yeah,” she drawled. “Oh-Kay.”

He gave her a wink, dropped onto his back, and slid underneath the console. “Oh, it’ll be great. I promise you, Rose. The whole universe at our disposal.”

She appeared at his feet, wearing the lapghan as a shawl around her shoulders. “Yeah. I get that,” she murmured. “And it’s an excitin’ prospect of course.”

He didn’t expect her to actually get off the chair, and so her voice startled him enough that he jerked and dropped the sonic screwdriver on his nose. He let out a short Gallifreyan swear. “Rose, darling. You really should be laying down.”

She sat on the floor at his feet. “Is there something wrong with the TARDIS?”

His voice filtered out, muffled, from deep inside the console. “You had better not be sitting on the floor. It’s filthy.”

“I can handle a little dirt,” she answered with a light lean in her belly so that she could attempt to see what he was up to. “What’s wrong with the TARDIS?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why’re you fixing it?”

“No reason.” There was a spark against his finger and he yelped before he shoved that digit into his mouth. There was another Gallifreyan curse. “Just a little security thing that got installed back when … well, a while ago. It’s going to prevent dematerialisation, so I need to disable it.”

Rose leaned her elbow on the lower edge of the console and rested her head on her fist. “Disabling security features? Isn’t that dangerous?”

“No,” he lied. “Not really. Not if you know what you’re doing, which I do.” He grit his teeth as he pulled at a part that simply wouldn’t give. His voice ended up strained. “It’s just taking a minute, that’s all.”

“I might go make myself a tea, then,” she said with a sigh. “Want one?”

“Sure,” he chirped out though gritted teeth. “Just. Just don’t leave the TARDIS, use her kitchen.”

“Don’t leave the TARDIS,” she muttered under her breath. Her head shook lightly and she grabbed hold of his thigh with a tight grip of her fingers. She smirked at his yelp. “Get out from under there and tell me what you’ve done.”

He pushed out only enough to be able to shift his head to look at her around the entrance to the cubby hole he was currently digging around. “What do you mean, tell you what I’ve done?”

“Need me to say it again in Gallifreyan?” she queried with annoyance. “Because I can do that, you know. I can say it, and make it sound even more accusatory. Brax taught me how.” She left her elbow up where it was, but lowered her head to move closer to his very guilty expression. “Why are you so eager to leave?”

“Because I want to be with you,” he clarified with frustration. “I miss my wife. I miss spending time with you.” He huffed. “Rassilon, Rose, we haven’t made love in over a month, The last time we even shared a bed together was three weeks ago, and that lasted all of ten minutes before my phone rang.”

He reached up a hand to touch her wrist – the only part of her he could comfortably reach. “My hearts hurt when I’m not with you. And call me a weak and pathetic fool for that if you want.”

“I love you too,” she breathed out on a long breath. “More’n you can possibly imagine.”

That made him smile and he lifted his head and prepared to push himself back into the console. She stopped him with another grab at his thigh. “But if you thin for a moment I’m completely buyin’ it, Doctor, then you’ve got another thing comin’. Now out with it: What did you do that we need to run away from Gallifrey so fast.”

“How could you possibly accuse me of such nefarious intentions?” He gasped with mock hurt.

She merely looked at him with one brow seated high, the other low. She was saved from anwering by a sudden banging against the TARDIS doors.

“Thete!” Braxiatel bellowed form the outside. “Open up this door, right now.”

The Doctor dared not look toward his wife. He was quite certain of the expression she would have onb her beautiful face – one of disappointment – and so he glared toward the door, which he could see bowing with each strike of his brother’s fists against it.

“Get lost, Brax,” he hollered in reply. “I’m busy.”

The pounding continued. A swear in ancient Gallifreyan growled through the doorway.

“My _wife_ is in here,” the Doctor snarled in reply as he pulled himself out fully from underneath the console and remained laying on his hip propped up by his elbow. “You might want to watch your language!”

“Open this door, Thete, or so help me I’ll break the door down.”

“Ha!” he sang in reply as he finally drew himself to a stand. “Best of luck with that. The assembled hoards of Genghis Khan couldn’t break through those doors, Don’t think you’ll have much better luck!”

Rose remained seated on the floor as she let her attention flick between the Doctor and the banging doors at the entrance to the TARDIS. She exhaled a long breath. “Doctor…?”

“Oh don’t you mind that fool,” the Doctor chirped with faux giddiness. He ran to the console and started playing around with several controls in an attempt for the old girl to get moving. “He’s just mad that he didn’t get an invite to join us on our journey.” He looked at the door, his voice shifting to anger. “I said stop banging on the door, Brax. I’m not opening it for you.”

“I am not leaving until we’ve discussed this, Thete,” he growled in reply. “This isn’t something you’re going to be able to run from, so don’t even think about trying.”

“I’m more than thinking about it,” he shot back as he grinned and shoved hard at the dematerialisation lever. He let out a long swear in frustration as the column wheezed once, but refused to move any more. 

“I’ve had your TARDIS locked down,” Braxiatel bellowed. “With protocols not even you can find your way around.”

The Doctor huffed. “That feels like a challenge…”

“Open this damn door!”

“You keep on knocking but you can’t come in,” the Doctor sang out as he slapped hard at the keys on the console and worked to break the grounding protocols.

Rose rolled her eyes and let out a long groan as she used alternating grips on the console to basically climb herself to a stand. “Are we really sure you’re ready to become a father?” she muttered under her breath.

“Oh,” he drawled with a huge smile. “I am so ready for that.” He reached out to place his hands either side of her bump, but frowned when she backed off a few steps with a shake in her head. “Rose?” His eyes pinched to watch her walk toward the door, her blanket still wrapped as a shawl around hr shoulders. “Rose. What are you doing?”

She looked back at him. “What do you think?”

“Don’t open that door.”

From the other side of the door, the opposite demand sounded out angrily.

“Rose,” the Doctor growled. “I’m warning – no _asking_ – you to please not let him in.”

“Whatever you’re both fighting about,” she said with a sigh and a wince. “Get it sorted, yeah? Both of you are givin’ me a headache.”

Rose turned the tumbler on the single simple little lock on the door. With both hands she sung open both doors and then stepped back to sweep her arm out toward the Doctor. “He’s over there.”

Braxiatel looked at Rose with worry. He touched with thanks at her shoulder and glared toward his brother. “What kind of insensitive Woprat are you?” He stalked into the room. “You took your sick wife out of her hospital bed to that you could run off like a damn coward?” He flicked his arm to her. “She’s ill, Thete, and needs medical observation and attention.”

“It might be interesting for you to note,” the Doctor growled in reply. “That I _am_ a Doctor. I also have a fully stocked medical bay in this ship with equipment and devices that far exceed the archaic junk at that hospital.” He pounded hard at the keys, frustrated that he was unable to correct any of the coding that was holding his ship for on the ground. “I need to keep her safe, Brax.”

Braxiatel’s voice finally fell to a more acceptable volume. Whilst still very frustrated, his voice was calm. “And in order to keep her safe, you should keep her here on Gallifrey where you have a support system to help you with that.”

“You saw what I saw,” the Doctor said with a wince, that image still not leaving his quite frankly photographic mind. “When the investigative teams see that…”

“Which they won’t.”

The Doctor’s eyes rolled and he let out a huff. “Oh don’t give me that. Do you think I’m the only one on this planet capable ot rewiring those surveillance panels to get them back up and running?” He pushed off the console and paced angrily. “They’re investigators, Brax. This is what they do – what they specialise at. I will give them no more than 12 hours to see what you, Romana, and I just saw.” He spun to him and stopped pacing to glare at him. “and less than that again for Council to come after her.” He pointed a finger at him. “I won’t allow that to happen.”

“And neither will Romana,” Braxiatel defended.

The Doctor let up a single laugh. “Like she can stop them,” he muttered with viciousness in his tone. “She is one, they are many, and she will lose against them.”

Braxiatel nodded. He couldn’t deny that charge. For all that Romana was – for how incredibly brilliant she was – she was no match against an entire council.

“You have my word, Brother. My solemn vow, that no one will ever see that footage.”

“And how can you promise that?”

Braxiatel lifted his head with an air of arrogance which was more habitual than actually arrogant. “Because she had it destroyed. All of it. With no possibility at all that it can be retrieved.”

His eyes were wide. “She did _what_?”

“You heard me, Thete,,” Braxiatel answered firmly. “Romana knows full well that her control over council is limited, and that at any moment she could be usurped by someone else. Something like this, something as severe as what we just saw?” He shuddered. “That will make them panic .. and quite likely revolt.” He shook his head. “She can’t be of any help to you if that happens.”

His whole body began to calm. “You mean she’s defied her oath of office and is willing to hide it?”

“Until such time as we know what we’re dealing with,” he answered. He let out a breath. “Thete. She cares for you, and Rassilon save me for saying this, but I do as well. We also trust you, and trust that you are not putting anyone in danger…”

“That’s a level of trust in me that no one should have,” he replied softly. “Unfortunately danger is my stalker, and one I can’t seem to shake.”

“Promise me that you didn’t know about …” He huffed. “About what she is capable of.”

“I promise you that I didn’t.” he breathed out. “I still don’t know that I believe what I saw. Brax, I have shared intimacy in its highest form with Rose. If she truly had power of that magnitude, I’d have felt it by now.”

Braxietel nodded. He rubbed at his chin in thought. “Not an image I wanted you to share with me, Thete.” He lifted his head, inhaled a deep breath through an open mouth and then looked down. “Have you heard the reference to this Bad Wolf before now?”

He scratched at the back of his head. “Outside of faery tales, Brax? No.” His eyes widened and he snapped a look toward Braxiatel. “Hold on. Hold on.” He waved a finger and started to pace again. “Rose did mention. Once. The name Bad Wolf to me.”

Braxiatel’s interest was properly peaked. “Do you remember what she said?”

The Doctor shook his head. “No, we really didn’t get into it all that much. Just that it was a warning to my elder self, but nothing for him – or me - to be concerned about.”

“Well I’m right properly concerned,” Braxiatel exclaimed. “As I suspect you must be as well.”

The Doctor nodded as he stalked to the door. “Then let’s ask her,” he stated firmly. “No time like the present.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Rose was snuggled in her bed now, all cocooned inside a warm duvet so tightly that only her face was showing. Leaving the two arguing Time Lords had been easy. She’d taken off before Braxiatel had walked up to his brother to engage in their slinging match. Her head was pounding hard, and she was still weak and sleepy….

She was close to achieving the perfect sleepy spot and state, when the bedroom door flew open. Although her eyes were closed, and then clenched shut, she knew exactly who had intruded upon her nap time. It wasn’t only the one of them. Both of them were trespassing in her sanctuary.

She moaned and rolled forward to press her face into the pillow. “Go away,” she mumbled pitifully when she felt the mattress sink beside her and a hand touch her shoulder.

“Rose?”

“Go away,” she tried again, unsure if she was in any way understandable given that her face was buried in a pillow. To be sure, she rolled just her head to free her mouth. “Please go and fight with your brother somewhere else.”

“Oh,” he said with a smile. “We kissed and made up.”

“Then why are you both in here?” she queried with a sigh. “I’m fairly certain that I’m not supposed to be party to any kissing and making up of siblings…” Her eyes widened. “I’m … I’m not, am I?”

“With all honesty, Rose,” Braxiatel offered. “Not even he is party to any form of kissing or making up as he may have suggested.”

“Figurative,” the Doctor moaned. “It’s an Earth-saying.”

“And I’m on Gallifrey,” he chirped out. “I wonder why I didn’t know about Earth customs and colloquialisms – oh, perhaps it is because I was born and raised on _Gallifrey_.”

Rose moaned. “I thought you two were done fighting?”

“Verbal sparring for now,” the Doctor assured her with a smile. “And in order for me to get rid of him, can we ask you a couple of questions? After that, you can sleep. Sleep all you want.” He grinned. “In fact, I’ll sleep with you.”

Rose yawned widely, but pulled herself up to sitting. She lifted her arms above her head in a stretch. “Okay. What’s your question?”

“Bad wolf,” the Doctor began, noting with curiosity how widely her eyes flared at the name.

“W-What about her?”

The Doctor lifted his eyes toward Braxiatel. “So it’s female.”

“We gathered that from the feed,” Braxiatel said with a shrug.

Rose looked between them both. “What feed?”

The Doctor lifted his hand to gently ask her for quiet. “Don’t worry about that for now. What I need to know, is who is the Bad Wolf?”

“Was,” Rose corrected carefully. “Who _was_ Bad Wolf?” She watched his face fall to an unreadable expression and shifted on the bed to draw her knees up to her chest. “Bad Wolf. Well. Bad Wolf was me.”

The Doctor looked perplexed by that revelation. “I’m sorry, what?”

Rose hugged her knees and looked up to the ceiling. “I’m the Bad Wolf,” she answered. “Well. Was.”

Braxiatel remained silent, but the Doctor pressed on. “I don’t understand? The memory that I saw, the one of the two of us. I was worried about that name.”

Rose shook her head slowly. “Well, yeah. It was a name that haunted our travels. Everywhere we went it showed up like an ominous warning of doom and gloom to come.” She shrugged. “Turns out it was me all along. And it wasn’t a danger – it was to save him. I mean _you_.”

She didn’t need him to press her for more information. She knew that he wanted more, and so gave the information he was looking for without hesitation.

“Me, Jack, and you all got trapped on a satellite hovering above Earth,” she said with a sigh. “About 100,000 ahead in my time line. It was our second time there actually. The first time, you saw a problem and tried to fix it.” She smiled. “Figured you were leading planet Earth into a new golden age.” Her smile fell. “Turns out your interference had the opposite effect, and the planet below was in far worse shape than it was when we left it.”

The Doctor let out a sound of remorse, Braxiatel a snort of derision.

“The Emperor of the Daleks, well, time Time War had decimated the Dalek race…”

“Time War?”

Rose’s eyes widened for a brief moment. “Ah. Nothing for you to concern yourself with,” she squeezed out through a wince. “The Daleks caused a spot of bother, and my Time Lord made them pay for it,” she volunteered with a soft smile. “The Oncoming Storm, they called you.”

The Doctor smirked. “Haven’t really been called that for a while.”

“Seen the Daleks lately?”

His eyes shifted her hers, but he said nothing.

“Anyway,” she continued. “The Dalek Emperor was trying to rebuild his army. Couldn’t do so with his own species, I s’pose. None left. So instead he was harvestin’ the humans to rebuild.” She blinked at him. “I can’t give you the nitty gritty details of that, though it was fairly well explained to you by the slimy lookin’ thing.” She shuddered. “Called himself a God, he did. The God of the Daleks, and the creator of a newer and more powerful army.”

She lifted her hand to scoop her hair behind her ear. “Course, you weren’t having any part of it. Weren’t going to let ‘em continue at any rate, so you came up with a plan to destroy them all.” One side of her mouth lifted into a small smile. “Wanted to kill every last stinkin’ one of them, you said.” She nodded. “And you were going to. With some delta wave or something…”

The Doctor frowned. “A Delta Wave?” he looked to Braxiatel. “Why would I think of something like that? A Delta wave would wipe out every living thing, including me.” He looked at her. “Including you.” His breath shuddered. “I can’t imagine…”

Rose shook her head. “Yeah, well. That’s where things took a turn, didn’t they?” She exhaled hard. “Right before you were all set to do it, you and me were talkin’. You told me you had a better plan, and that we needed to get into the TARDIS.” She sniffed hard, and her voiced softened with pain. “But then you locked me in there. Sent me back home with the TARDIS. Told me to forget about you, to let the TARDIS die, and have a fantastic life without you.”

There were tears in her eyes when she looked at him. “But how could I do that? After everything… after you and me.” She inhaled through an open mouth and tried to steady her emotion. “Well. I wasn’t havin’ that. After some mopin’ about and feelin’ sorry for myself, I went to the park.” She inhaled. “There they were, the two words that haunted us: Bad Wolf,” She blinked. She couldn’t continue looking at him, so she cast her eyes downward. “And I knew. I knew right then that the words weren’t anything bad. They were my words, and my pathway to lead me back to you.”

He took her hand in his. “And how’d you do that?”

She lifted her eyes. “I opened her heart,” she admitted. “The heart of her. I looked into the TARDIS,” she answered. “And the TARDIS looked into me.”

“Oh good Rassilon,” Braxiatel breathed out with horror.

The Doctor ignored his brother’s words and looked imploringly toward his wife. “And what happened?”

“I became the Bad Wolf.”


	22. Talking Bad Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose opens up about the Bad Wolf. Two Time Lords get very worried....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. It's me...
> 
> The Follow-up to yesterday's chappy ... I do hope you're not disappointed...
> 
> GK

~~oooOOOooo~~

_I became the Bad Wolf._

Well. That wasn’t quite what he was expecting to hear. The Bad Wolf – from what he saw on the security feed – was separate to Rose. Oh, the power was most definitely Rose, but the voice of the Bad Wolf? That wasn’t her … it definitely wasn’t her.

…Oh please don't let it be her.

Braxiatel’s silence, and his wide eyes … well … They told the Doctor loud and clear that his thoughts were very much the same as his. Actually, so did the disbelief and worry that his mind was projecting outward – not that he was actually trying to pick up his brother’s inadvertent mental transmissions – loud thinker that he was.

It was Braxiatel, rather than the Doctor, who actually found his voice to speak after that revelation.

“Just what is the Bad Wolf, Rose?” He knew she would likely respond with a shrug and ‘me’ response, so he clarified what he was asking. “What did you become, and why did you become her?”

Rose’s eyes were wide, but she wasn’t looking at either of them. Her lips were pouted, even though her mouth was open, and she drew in a couple of breaths as she tried to remember what had happened almost four years ago.

“The Bad Wolf was – as the Doctor described her to me later – like a Goddess of time.” She looked at her husband. “At first I thought you were bein’ all over dramatic about it. You’re good at that.”

He couldn’t chuckle even if he wanted to.

She swallowed before continuing and looked at her hands as she turned them up and then down. “But then…” She gulped. “When I started to remember it all on my own, I knew he wasn’t overdramatising it. If anything he downplayed it.” He dropped her hands, looked up, and sighed. “Not that he really went into it all that deep. Basically just said,” she adopted a male voice to mimic the Doctor. “Bad wolf was Time’s Goddess. She’s gone now. I sent her home. Nothing for you to worry about. Now how about a trip to see Ian Drury, Sheffield, 1979?”

Braxiatel looked toward his brother with a frustrated furrow in his brow. “You left it at _that_?” 

The Doctor held up his hands. “Not me … at least not yet.” He seemed confused. “How could I not explain it to you indepth? That is so very un-me.”

Rose chuckled softly. “Always talkin’,” she said softly. “But never really saying anything.”

“You got that right,” Braxietel gruffed. He looked to his brother. “You know. I think I like her. She’s got the best read on you of anyone…”

“Oh shut it,” the Doctor growled. He took Rose’s hands in his and tugged them lightly so that she looked at him. “Please continue.”

“Like I said,” she continued. “I can only tell you what I remember, and even that’s spotty at best.” She paused and looked upward again, clearly trying to remember. “When I looked into the heart of the TARDIS,” she tried to ignore the double gasps, but shuddered anyway. “And she looked into me…” There was a tear in her eye. “It was like me and her, we were one. I didn’t have to work the controls or anything – and I couldn’t do it if I tried to anyway … which I did when you first sent me home.” She dropped her eyes to his. “I hated you for that.”

“Right now, so do I?” he admitted on a whisper.

“Anyway,” she continued with a deep inhale for composure. “Me and the TARDIS. We flew back to you – flew back to the gamestation.” Her voice wavered and she clutched tightly at his hands. “I couldn’t leave you there alone, Doctor. You were goin’ to die, alone, defendin the Earth. It wasn’t right.” Her head shook. “I jus’ couldn’t.”

“I know,” he breathed, stroking her knuckles with his thumbs. “I know.”

“An’ when I opened the TARDIS doors, all glowin’ with Time…” She shuddered with the memory of the Doctor’s reaction to her. “Well. You were mad … or upset.”

“I imagine I would be, Rose,” he offered gently. “If I’d sent you away for your safety and you found a way back to me.”

Braxiatel agreed. “And in the condition you returned to him in. Rose, I suspect my brother was terrified, not angry or upset.”

The Doctor nodded. “Quite right.” He lifted a hand to tenderly push her hair behind her ear.. “So you were golden, glowing Goddess?”

She smiled and captured his hand to lean her cheek into it. “It wasn’t me, though, Doctor. Not really.” She looked into his worried eyes, almost grey instead of blue. “It was my body, but not me. Not really. I had the entire vortex running through my head. I’m human. Just an ordinary Human. I wasn’t in control, how could I be?”

“The entire vortex,” Braxiatel breathed out worriedly. “No. That would kill a Time Lord…”

“And it did,” Rose admitted sadly. “When the Doctor took that power away from me, it … it,” she hiccupped. “He regenerated.” She looked toward the man watching her with wide and panicked eyes. “I’m so sorry, Doctor. I am.”

He pulled her hard against him into an embrace that was awkward, but very fierce. “Don’t apologise, Rose. Please don’t apologise. I’d gladly give up a life for yours.”

Braxietel cleared his throat loud enough that it forced the couple apart. He swallowed thickly. “This power or yours, Rose. How strong was it?”

“Id say it’s pretty obvious, Brax,” the Doctor growled.

“No, no,” Rose assured softly. “He’s okay to ask.” She looked toward her brother in law with sad eyes. “This power, it was… indescribable.” She lifted her hands from the Doctor’s and looked at it as she once again turned them up and then down. “With these, I was able to destroy an entire Dalek fleet.” She flicked them both. “With just that, the whole lot of them were gone, reduced to dust and nothing else. A wave of my hand, that’s all.”

She lifted her head and drew in a deep breath through an open mouth. “I could see them. Every atom of them.” She lowered her head again. “And I separated them. I destroyed them all, the Daleks, their emperor, and their entire battle fleet – ships and all.”

“By Rassilon’s ghost,” Braxiatel breathed out with horror. “That power…”

“Can never get into a Time Lord’s hands,” the Doctor warned darkly. “He’d go mad with it.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” she offered gently. “You took it all from me. Made sure it was all gone.” sHe smiled and wiggled her fingers. “No more destroying anything with these.” She frowned. “Well, except a Roast dinner, of course. Could never get that done properly.”

He smiled weakly at her.

She sighed at that point. “But I can see your worry about it. The power was immense, so much so that I had no control over it … at least not the human part of me.” She shrugged. “When Bad Wolf was in control, she knew what she had to do – which was to keep you safe.” A small smile formed. “Her whole purpose was your safety against the Daleks.”

“As mine is to yours,” the Doctor offered.

“I have to admit that the power was enticing. I could see the universe, all of it. The turn of it. Everything that is, all that was, and all that ever could be.”

Braxiatel nodded. “That’s the way we see it,” he said softly. “All the time.”

“That’s what the Doctor said to me at the time, wondering how it wasn’t burning.” She pursed her lips. “But it was burning. God, it hurt so much.”

“It’s gone now,” the Doctor assured her, with only a short look of warning to his brother.

“But w-why would you ask?” she stammered, worry entering her voice.

“No reason for you to concern yourself with my dear,” Braxiatel answered her, beating his brother to it. “Thete and I were talking about an old faery tale from our youth. The name Bad Wolf popped up, and my brother mentioned that it was something you’d mentioned about your time with him in the future.” He gave her a warm smile. “We wanted to see if they were one in the same?”

“And were they?” she queried.

“Not even close,” he lied with a smile. “And I believe Thete now owes me an expensive bottle of Southern Gallifrey Magnolia wine for losing that particular bet.” His eyes slid to the Doctor. “Isn’t that right, Thete?”

The Doctor nodded. “Yes. I’m afraid so.”

Rose looked between the both of them, but could see nothing in their expressions or shared looks to indicate that they couldn’t be trusted. She sighed, but smiled. “So are we done now? You got your answers?”

The Doctor slapped his hands to wipe them against each other. “Indeed. The answers to all of my questions. My apology for keeping you awake to settle the bet.” His eyes shifted to her hand as she lifted it to cover her forehead. “Are you okay?”

“Headache,” she admitted with a wince. “Any chance of you having some paracetamol anywhere ‘round?”

“I’m sure the TARDIS has a supply of them,” he said with a smile and a kiss to her forehead. “Give me a moment, I’ll go grab it.”

She jerked just slightly when he hurriedly leapt off the bed and walked briskly out the door. She leaned around to watch his back as he retreated from her. “Don’t forget some water,” she called out.

“I won’t,’ he called in return.

Rose sat back in the pillows and looked across at Braxiatel, who was standing at her bedside with a look of concern on his face.

“Are you okay?” she asked him gently.

He nodded. “The more important question is whether or not you are okay, dear,” he answered softly.

“I’m okay,” she breathed with a shrug. Her eyes danced across to the door. “Him, on the other hand…”

“He will be fine,” he assured her. 

She looked to him. “And you?”

“What about me?”

“What you just heard,” she muttered. “It can’t have been easy to hear – any of it.” She looked down at the duvet, and flicked at imaginary pills with her fingernail. “You don’t think all that highly of me to begin with, so…”

“Don’t’ be foolish,” he barked out in reply. He looked toward the door to see if his brother was within earshot. When he saw that it was clear, he moved toward her. Her eyes lifted to his as he approached. “Breathe a word to anyone, and I’ll vehemently deny it.”

She blinked a rapid trio of blinks. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I have a very marked respect for you, and for who you are,” he began quietly. “Granted, I can only say that I’ve interacted with you only on a social basis over the past couple of years, but in that time…” He smiled. “Well. You’ve shown a spirit that I’ve never given your people credit for. Rassilon, I don’t know that I’d even put you in the same category that I would _any_ of your people. You are unique.”

She lowered her head with a smile.

“What you give to my brother - the man he becomes because of you – I can only describe as a marvel of the universe.” He sighed almost happily. “You ground him. None of us are anywhere near capable of that. Not me. Not our father. Not even our mother.”

She reached out to take his hand, surprised that he let her do so. 

He squeezed at her tiny hand inside his, marvelling at her warmth. “And as the woman who has so bravely saved my brother in more ways than just one, and let that fool live to frustrate me again and yet again, I make you this vow.”

He lowered down into a stoop to press his forehead lightly against hers; a form of affection she would never have thought possible from this man.

“I vow to you that from this day and every day forward that you are protected. That no matter where or when you are, I will always be there as your support, as your protection, and as your _brother_.”

Rose did the only thing she could with that revelation. She launched up onto her knees and hugged the man. She didn’t think for a moment of his aversion to such things. She just grabbed his lapel and pulled him in against her chest. “Thank you, Brax!”

Initially, the poor man’s arms flailed. Gestures of affection of this nature were far better left between mates, but he quickly relaxed and let his arms settle across her shoulders. “No, Rose,’ he breathed out. “Thank _you_.”

At the Doorway, the Doctor watched the exchange with wide eyes and a gaped mouth. Not one time in his entire lives had he seen his brother be so affectionate toward another. His would much rather show disdain than respect for another being – particularly one that was human.

Oh, it could almost make him cry.

Almost.

Knowing that blatantly interrupting them would cause his brother unnecessary embarrassment, and quite likely an insult that would upset his wife, the Doctor opted to act as though he’d not borne witness to such a remarkable exchange. He took a step back from the door, and then stepped forward. Looking down at the plastic container in his hand, he gave it a shake.

Paracetamol,” he sang out. “Good for headaches and very safe for little as yet unborn Time Lords.” He looked up and lifted his brows curiously as his wife and brother hurriedly separate. “Oh-Kay,” he drawled out. “Looks like I missed something.”

“No,” Rose laughed, her cheeks pinkening. “I just fell…”

“It’s her head,’ Braxiatel agreed with a guilty look that was quickly disguised by an expression of contempt. “These frail humans. Tiny little knock to the head, and all of a sudden they’re reduced to infancy – unable to even stand on their own.”

“Yeah, oh-kay,” the Doctor drawled with an appropriate amount of suspicion. His eyes and expression brightened, and he moved toward his wife with his bottle of pills and a glass of water. “There you are, my Hearts. Drink up, swallow those pills, and get some rest.”

Rose popped two ills on her tongue and drew back a mouthful of water from the glass to wash them down. She spoke too soon after her swallow and managed to only choke out her words. “can’t very well sleep with you two lookin’ at me.”

“She has a point,” the Doctor sad to his brother with a shrug. “Best that you and I head off then. Give her some peace and quiet.” He grinned. “Rose baked a pie yesterday…”

“Magnolia?” Brax remarked with a smile.

“The one and only,” he answered with a grin. “Unless she’s eaten it all…”

Rose sighed. “Boys? Scoot. Both of you.”

The Doctor leaned down to kiss her gently. Words of adoration in his native tongue ghosted from his lips and vowed that his hearts beat for her.

“I love you too, Doctor,” she breathed out as she slid back down into the bed and snuggled into her pillow. “Now sod off. Both of you.”

The Doctor wore a smile, and Braxiatel a shake in his head as the both of them left the bedroom. The Doctor was careful to pull the door closed with only a light snick. He then waved his hand in a request for his brother to follow him to the kitchen.

“Well,’ Braxiatel muttered. “That was certainly enlightening.”

“Terrifying,” the Doctor corrected him. “Quite terrifying.” He walked to the fridge and pulled out the half-eaten magnolia pie. “And aside from enlightening, what did you get from it?”

Braxiatel thought on that for a moment as the Doctor moved around the kitchen gathering plates and cutlery. When he did speak it was with concern. “It’s very clear that she still holds this Bad Wolf entity inside her, Thete.”

“Right,” the Doctor drawled in reply. “Straight to that part of it.” He cut a slice of pie for his brother and slopped it onto a plate. His eyes was on the piece as he slid it across the counter. “It would be incredibly irresponsible of me to leave any part of that inside her, Brax, given the immense power it seemed to wield.”

Braxiatel held a fork in his hand but didn’t immediately dig into the pie. “I believe that somewhere within the 26 syllables that make up your name, irresponsible is in there.” He grinned as he finally shovelled a forkful of pie into his mouth. He then purred gratefully. “Heaven,” he mumbled around fruit and pastry. “Absolute heaven.” He swallowed. “For this alone she is marriage worthy.”

“How very sexist of you,” the Doctor quipped in reply as he finished his own mouthful. “I believe Rose when she says that I told her the power was removed. I believe that I truly believed that when I said it to her.” He shook his head and dug his fork in for another bite. “I also believe that this Bad Wolf thing is …”

“Parasitic,” Braxiatel offered. “And able to hide itself rather effectively against Time Lord discovery.” He took another bite of his pie and let the flavour run across his tongue before chewing and swallowing again. “But on a good note, it really doesn’t seem to be causing her any detriment at all.”

“No,” he agreed. “It doesn’t. If anything it’s protecting her.” He pursed his lips, his brows deepening to a furrow. “Well. Against the Daleks at any rate. It doesn’t seem to activate in other circumstances – the cliff fall as an example.”

“But you were there.”

“I very nearly wasn’t.”

The two men quietened down so that the only sounds heard in the kitchen were the scraping of forks on plates, and the sounds of chewing.

(A/N: If you have misophonia like I do, my apology for that image and any eye-ticking that may occur)

The Doctor finally spoke when there was only one to two bites left of his pie. “Have you given much thought to this Bad Wolf telling the Daleks that _they’re here too early_?”

Braxiatel nodded. “I have.” He dropped his fork onto the empty plate. “And it concerns me, greatly.”

“Sees the universe like us, all that is, all that was…”

“And all that ever could be,” he finished. He nodded. “Which means…”

“She’s seen the arrival of Daleks to Gallifrey,” The Doctor said gravely. “Which means what we saw today, that _one_ ship. That’s only the beginning.”

“You’re thinking we may be looking at an invasion, Thete?”

“Rassilon,” he breathed out. “I hope not.” He looked down at his plate with a shake in his head. “There is no way that our forces can hold back a fully-fledged Dalek fleet.”

“You and Romana are well versed in the ways of the Daleks and how to defeat them,” Braxiatel offered. “Can we rely on you to assist in bringing our soldiers up to speed?”

The Doctor blew out a breath and slouched on the countertop, his arms straight, and his head hung low between his shoulders. “Your best course of action is to not let them get to Gallifrey, Brax.” He lifted his eyes to his brother. “They kill indiscriminately. Women, children, they don’t care.” He growled. “Exterminate, exterminate, exter-min-Sepulchasm-ate.”

Braxiatel’s brows lifted. “Reached for the big one there, I see,” he remarked. He blew out a breath. “I will have to tell Romana what we learned today, Thete.”

“I know,“ he murmured, still in his slouch. His head still low. “But please, don’t let it go further.” He lifted his head. “What Rose may, or may not know, is not to any of us to know – and they _will_ push her if they catch wind of it.”

“I know, Thete,” he agreed. “I vow to you that it won’t leave the sanctity of the three of us. But do know that together, we must find a solution, so that if our fears are realised and the Daleks are on their way to Gallifrey – we must be prepared for them.”

“I know.”

“Anyway,” he said with more of a chirp in his tone than of doom and gloom. “For now, I say please go be with your wife. I will ensure that you will not be bothered by any hospital calls.”

He nodded. “Thanks.”

Braxiatel have him a couple of firm pats on the shoulder and walked toward the doorway, and toward the stolen travel capsule. “I’ll be taking the capsule you stole,” he grumbled. The then paused and picked up the pie dish and its remaining two pieces of pie. “And this…”


	23. Jackie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor has some news for Jackie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. This was only supposed to be a short one. Not something I actually wanted to write at all, but it was ... I suppose .. important to address. The topic is always a bit of a tough one for me to write ... everyone experiences it so differently, so I am never quite sure that I can make it .. ehm ... impactful nor believable enough. 
> 
> Anyhoo ... I had started another more lighthearted chapter, but put it aside for now... It'll have to wait and see if I can get some weekend writing done to finish it up.
> 
> I understand there isn't much of Ten here right at this juncture. And there really is a reason for it: All of the Eight/Rose stuff is happening before Ten's timeline, and therefore I truly can't ever find a spot to slide it in -- I'm so sorry about that. The Bulk of Ten's stuff actually happens later... But. I'll start the flip flopping between timelines from here...
> 
> I truly hope that you enjoy this chapter.

~~oooOOOooo~~

The rotor column was quiet as he stared at the locked front doors of his TARDIS. For several minutes he stood in silence, contemplating next steps and fearing the outcome. Oh, but he wasn’t looking forward to this. He wasn’t in any way mentally prepared for it. Rassilon, he was nowhere near physically prepared for it, either, but he was fully aware of the potential that there would be a physical component to this…

…Potential? HA! It was a guarantee. And yet, maybe that would be a good thing. Maybe it would actually take away this numbness that he felt inside and make him actually physically _feel_ the pain.

His fingernails flicked at a small button on the console. It wasn’t a particularly important button, just one that was supposed to light up this section of the panel to allow him to better see the measurements and dial controls. It hadn’t worked of late, not since the fall into the heart of a planet that was the front door of the Devil. He hadn’t really thought about it, such was the autonomy of piloting his ship, but now that he thought about it, perhaps he should look into just what was wrong with it: A burnt fuse, burnt bulb, break in the circuitry?

The column let out a wheeze and he lifted his eyes to the ceiling.

“Yeah,” he drawled out on a hoarse whisper. “I know, old girl. I know.” He huffed and looked back to the door. “More pressing matters need addressing.”

Three times since dropping Donna off in Chiswick, he’d landed here, trying to find the courage to step outside the doors and confront his biggest fear since the Daleks. His first time was after dropping off Donna on Christmas day – such an amazing spirit was held inside that woman. Such fierce determination and courage. Oh, she would make a great companion…

…But that was Christmas Day. Who was he to ruin a holiday of that nature? No. He felt it better to wait until a more appropriate and non-family holiday moment…

The second time, was weeks later in Earth’s timeline, Easter. Just as bad as Christmas.

This time, it was late Summer. As far as he could tell, there was nothing in the Human calendar to suggest the timing would be in poor taste. Although … when _would_ be a good time for this?

Rassilon. He’d never had to do this before, which actually did seem quite shocking really. In almost a millennia of travelling, and so many companions at his side facing danger at every step, he’d never actually found himself in this rather delicate – and quite frankly frightening – position. All of a sudden his respect for army officials and police officers skyrocketed. This was something they did by routine…

He steeled himself with a deep inhale and clenched his fists tight to ready himself. “Right then,” he murmured to no one in particular. “Best we get to it.”

He strode purposefully toward the door. He clutched at the handle with one hand, unlocked the door with the other, and pulled open the door. Immediately he was blinded by the brilliant sunlight of an late Summer’s day. He stayed just a moment to relish in the warmth that single sun offered; not as warm as Gallifrey, but pleasant nonetheless. 

A child screaming in tantrum broke his short reverie, and he looked toward the scream with his brows high. The youngster was on her back the dirty floor, kicking her little legs and clenching tiny fists as her poor mother tried desperately to settle her. He briefly wondered what had upset the child, but figured it wasn’t worth the time to deduce nor intervene. Rose had told him that little ones did tend to tantrum over the most ridiculous things. She’d shown him an internet page full of tired parents showing pictures of a tantrum with a caption noting what caused it…

…All of which were mindblowing.

A smile crept onto his face at that point. He had to wonder if Rose had pitched an unreasonable fit when she was that age. Probably. She was fairly good at it now … Well … so was he, really.

He looked up toward the second balcony railing, and to the plain dirty white door of Jackie Tyler’s flat. Closed and quiet, with a ratted sticky note that was no doubt an ignored flier of sorts for the local Chinese restaurant. He’d seen something like that on a previous visit. He wondered for a moment if this was the same one, or if they were replaced almost as quickly as they were removed.

With a sigh, a look to the left, and then to the right, he thrust his hands deep inside his trouser pockets an headed bristly across the courtyard. He continued to check left and right as he bounded a single stride up onto the curb and made his way to the stairwell. Habit made him take the stairs two at a time, and he had to stop himself from looking behind him with a grin to tell Rose to hurry up.

His head dropped when he made it to the balcony, and with a kick of his plimsolls at a small jagged pebble that bounced across the floor and over the edge of the balcony, he walked toward Jackie’s flat.

Dread filled his chest as he took one hand from his pocket and curled it into a fist to knock at the door. He made the motion to do so, but softened the strike of his fist the merely press it against the door instead. His breath drew out haggardly and he leaned forward to press his forehead against his fist.

Perhaps he should take a trip back to Crandinia and have another look for Rose. Maybe he missed something, and his precious girl was still alive out there? It really couldn’t hurt for him to go back and spend a year or two taking another look. Best to be very, very sure before giving Jackie any news to the contrary.

The Door suddenly opened, and the Doctor gave a gasp as he stumbled forward. Both hands shot forward onto Jackie’s shoulders, which then slipped across them. Inadvertently he’d fallen into an awkward hug, which was very quickly reciprocated by Jackie, who hummed happily as her arms went around his waist.

He peeped. She purred. He tried to pull back, she kissed him on the cheek.

“Well hello to you too, Doctor,” she purred as much as growled as she pulled back, cupped his stunned face with both hands and planted a wet smooch onto his gobsmacked mouth. His eyes were open wide with horror, and his arms shifted to a flail. He pulled back with a gasp and a stumble that was reminiscent of stumbling our of a regeneration blast.

He held off on using his full sleeve to wipe clean his mouth, but only because she was looking around him to find her daughter – no doubt to greet her in much the same fashion as she had him.

“Where my Rose then,” she asked with bright and happy curiosity.

He pulled at his earlobe. He looked behind him, and then ahead again to Jackie. “Mind if I come in?”

Her face creased happily, and she nodded as she took a step backward, opening the door further to give him space. “Of course,” she answered in a manner to suggest it wasn’t something he actually needed permission for. “I’m guessin’ my Rose is haulin’ along another bag of laundry for me.” She pointed a finger into his chest as she passed. “You might be a gentleman and help her out with that, you know.” She looked him up and down. “You might be a skinny little streak of nothin’, but I reckon you’re capable of carrying a bag or two for her.”

He followed behind her, his hands now deep again in his trouser pockets, as she led them toward the kitchen. Tea was always an offering at Jackie Tyler’s place, so no doubt she’d want to put a pot on.

“You know,” she said with a smile in her voice as she walked. “I was just tellin’ Bev on the phone yesterday how I hadn’t seen you and Rose in a while. Almost a year, now.” She turned her head to narrow a playful glare at him. “Promised me you’d be back for Christmas and all you did,” she accused. “I didn’t believe it for a second, mind, not with your piloting skills being on the same level as a British Airways pilot. Can’t keep a schedule and all that.”

She grabbed a kettle from the stove and ran it under the tap to fill it. “But then I saw the ruckus downtown that day. Big star in the sky, the Thames bein’ drained. Had no doubt it was you and my Rose trying to head off that problem.” She led him into the kitchen and gestured toward a seat at a small round table that was no doubt circa 1950.

“I’ll stand,” he muttered with a shrug.

“Anyway,” she continued. “So then I thought, well, if you’re both in London, maybe I’ll get that visit afterall.” She sighed. “I waited. Nothing. Spent Christmas day by myself with a bottle of sherry.”

“I’m sorry,” he managed.

She flicked her hand at him. “Oh no mind,” she said with a smile. “I was expectin’ it. Had to come a time when Rose didn’t want to hang about with her boring old mother anymore.” She gestured toward him. “Not when there’re more exciting people like you around. Can’t quite compete against that, now, can I?”

“Don’t think that way,” he corrected, pain flashing in his eyes. “Rose. Rose thinks the universe of you.”

Jackie smiled. “Well of course she does. I know that, you plum. I’m her Mum. Just that sometimes we mums have to take a step back behind… Well … behind the man our girls falls in love with. Did it to my own mum, and my mum did it to hers.” Her eyes lifted. “Of course, what Rose did is a little different… But, kids these days.” She smiled warmly at him. “Glad she’s got you, though, Doctor. Skinny hair gel and all that, she really does think the world of you.”

He made a choking sound.

“Oh don’t pretend you don’t know,” she scoffed. “You both can deny it all you want. I know you were regularly bumping the uglies with my Rose. Don’t think I don’t know a thoroughly shagged out couple when I see one. And old big ears you always had that just laid glint in his eye.” She narrowed her eye at him. “You. Not so much so.” She shrugged. “Guess the honeymoon’s over for now. Go from doin’ it every five minutes against anythin’ you can lean on, to once or twice a week in bed, and more because you’re bored than actually frisky for it…”

Yeah, the Doctor was swiftly approaching the limit with this particular line of conversation. “Jackie, please. With all due respect to you and your apparent openness about such things with your daughter, I’m becoming very uncomfortable with this topic.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself.” Her eyes pinched with confusion and she looked around the Doctor toward the front door. “Where is she?” she muttered more to herself than to him in question. “Never known her to take _this_ long.”

The Doctor swallowed a gulp. It appeared that the moment for full disclosure had arrived. He couldn’t put it off much longer. “Jackie. Can I ask you to take a seat?”

Dread almost immediately passed across her face. There was a wash of terror across her eyes, which she tried desperately to shield. “Why would I need to take a seat, Doctor?” she queried in a voice that showed she was trying desperately not to panic. “Where is she? Where’s my Rose?”

He put his hands on her shoulders, wincing when she abruptly twisted to jerk away from him. “Jackie. Please I need to tell you something.”

“Where is she?” Jackie demanded again, panic now reigning supreme over any other emotion. “Don’t you dare tell me that you’re here to tell me somethin’s happened, Doctor.” She shook her head. “Don’t you dare.”

He tried reaching for her again. “I’m sorry, Jackie. I’m so sorry.”

She only let him touch her shoulders for a second before she roughly pulled back from him. “No,” she seethed out though her teeth. “I don’t believe you. Not my Rose. Not my baby.”

He slumped in place, trying to think of how to make her believe him. No words came, and any effort to try and think of anything were hampered as she shoved him out of her way to get to the front door.

“I see,” he mumbled, fully expecting that she would hold that door open and demand he leave. “I’ll just go…”

Surprisingly, she didn’t demand he leave. Instead she threw open the door and stalked out onto the balcony, cupping her hands over her mouth and calling out her daughter’s name. Over and over she hollered out, demanding that she stop this nonsense and come inside right now.

Each cry of her name turned more broken the longer this went on until the Doctor could let it go on no more. He pulled from his slouch and stalked quickly to the doorway. He came up behind Jackie leaning over the balcony and curled both arms around her. Tight. He said nothing as she struggled hard to get away from him. Hollering and calling out to her daughter. He kept his hold on her tight, barely even wincing at the whip of her hair against his face, nor the pain of her feet kicking at his shins. He just held on, held her until she had no fight left within her. And when she fell, he was definitely there to catch her. He barely winced when he was suddenly burdened with her entire weight. He merely dropped slightly at the knee, hooked his arms underneath her knees, and lifted her up against his chest.

He couldn’t blame her when she finally broke and the tears fell. Rassilon, inside he was doing the exact same thing.

With her sobbing against his chest, the Doctor carried Jackie back inside the flat and kicked the door closed behind him.

~~oooOOOooo~~

He surprised even himself that he didn’t simply take off and leave Jackie sobbing and crying for her daughter. How could he leave? Jackie had just lost her only child. If he knew anything about the fragile emotional conditions by which human females lived by, it was that emotional distress could lead to very dangerous behaviours. Jackie had just been dealt a very severe blow, he wasn’t going to leave until he knew for sure that she’d stabilised enough to begin to move on.

Right now he was entering his second hour of listening to her heart wrenching sobbing. It was a grating and painful sound for him to have to endure, but he felt deserving of the pain. Rose wouldn’t have been lost if it wasn’t for him. Jackie wouldn’t be here sobbing the loss of her little girl had it not been for him.

His silence and the vacant look in his eyes finally captured her attention. Jackie looked across the coffee table at him and snatched a tissue from a tackily gold gilded tissue box in the centre of it. “I want to blame you,” she managed wetly, ending her words with a very loud blow of her nose.

The Doctor looked toward her. “I expect you to,” he admitted on a rather emotionless tone of voice. “You _should_ blame me.”

“Did you kill her?” She managed weakly, squeezing out the last of her tears with a wip of a fresh tissue against her eyes. “And by that I mean, did you pull the trigger?”

“She wasn’t shot,” he corrected her, his voice still calm and devoid of emotion. “And as far as I am concerned, yes. Her death was as the direct result of…” He sniffed and inhaled through his mouth at the same time. “If I had’ve been a more considerate…”

“What happened?” Jackie asked after a swallow. “Tell me what happened, and let me decide who’s to blame.”

He inhaled hard and held that breath for a long moment. His eyes were downcast, unable to look into Jackie’s horribly red eyes. “We argued,” he admitted. “I did something that – in hindsight – was stupid. II didn’t explain it to her.” His breath finally wavered with emotion. “She ran into a storm, and I lost her.”

He leaned forward in the chair, leaning his elbows on his knees and his hands cradled together in between. “I looked for her, Jackie. I promise you I did.” His head lifted sadly. “I wouldn’t stop looking.”

“How long did you search for her?”

“A month,” he answered simply. “Every day, and every night for a whole month.” He kept his elbows on his knees, but raised his hands so he could bury his face in his palms. “I searched, and searched for her… Not a trace.”

“It sounds like you did what you could,” she said softly. 

“But it wasn’t enough,” he breathed out, rolling his hands into a single balled fist that he could rest his chin on. “I didn’t do enough. I could never do enough.”

“As long as you did your best,” she offered him in that tone all mothers used when they were lying to try and appease an upset child. “That’s all that matters.”

He chuckled ruefully as his hands dropped from his chin and fell down heavily I front of him. “I’m 907 years old.”

“What’s that got to do with anythin’?”

“You don’t have to speak to me like I’m a child.”

Jackie levelled a stare at him. “When you’re behavin’ like one, yes I do.” She stood up and walked around the table toward him. She briefly considered sitting on the armrest of his chair, but made do with sitting on the tabletop – hoping beyond all that it would hold her weight. She put her hand on his knee, gripping tight when he immediately tried to pull away. “My Dad always said to me: Hindsight’s 20/20. The only clear view you’re ever goin’ to get is lookin’ back.” She huffed. “Didn’t buy it then, and don’t much buy it now, what with us all romancifying our past and what-not.”

“Romancifying is not a word,” he corrected her.

“Don’t you go correctin’ me, Doctor,” she snapped. “My point is this: You lookin’ back and seein’ only what you think that you did wrong isn’t the right way to deal with this.” She squeezed the hand still clamped onto his knee. “God knows I love my little girl beyond anythin’ else on this planet, Doctor.” She sighed. “But I also know that she can be a right little madam who can throw a tantrum and stomp around when she doesn’t get her way. She’s more to blame for this than you are.”

“You don’t…”

“Stop!” she growled. “We can play the blame game if you want. You bet we can. Let me start: I blame me for not givin’ her the very best life after losin’ her dad, makin’ her always look everywhere else for excitement. I didn’t push her hard enough at school, nor did I fight against that whole Jimmy Stone thing,” she looked up and sighed. “Messed her right up, he did.”

The Doctor blinked, but stayed silent.

“I could’ve fought against her bein’ with you as well, Doctor. But I didn’t.” She moved in a little closer to him. “As her mother, it was my job to make sure that she was safe. I knew your life, I saw what you life had to offer her, and I let her go ahead with it anyway. You want to play the blame game, Doctor, then you have to stand behind me.”

He shook his head, tears filling his eyes. “It’s not your fault, Jackie. It’s not…”

“It’s not yours, neither. I know you thought the world of her and tried the best you could.” Her voice softened when he leaned forward into his hand and began to sob. “Oh you poor thing,” she cooed as she leaned down over top of him, circling her arms over his shoulders and back and resting her cheek against the back of his head. Her own voice wavered, sympathetically reacting to his sorrow. “She loved you, my Rose. More’n you’ll ever know.”

He squirmed slightly underneath her, trying to lift himself up to a sit. He finally maneuvred himself back up, but hugged at his stomach with a forward lean. “And I love her, Jackie. More than she ever got to know.” His eyes widened, and then fell into a wince. “Sure, I can say it now.” He let out a gruff grunt.

Jackie wiped at her eyes and tipped her head to one side. “What’re you on about now?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” she remarked softly.

He lifted his head and sighed toward the ceiling. “Just a glitch in the system,” he admitted as he tapped himself on the temple with his finger. “Nothing for you to be concerned about.”

“Believe it or not, Doctor,” she said with a weak smile. “I am concerned about you. Why don’t you stay here a couple’a days. Wrap your head around what’s happened. Cry if you have to.”

His red-rimmed eyes shifted to hers. “Thanks, but. I can’t.”

“The offer’s here,” she assured him. “And I hope. I truly hope, that you’re not going to just swan off and I’ll never see you again.” Her voice lessened to a whisper. “Don’t let me lose the both of you.”

“I’m sorry, Jackie,” he promised softly. “I really am. Rose. Well. Rose was. She meant a lot to me. She…”

“You loved her,” Jackie supplied.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Silence fell for a moment, with neither knowing just where to shift the conversation from here. Jackie finally broke the silence with a sigh that suggested she had a question for him and was one that he probably didn’t want to hear.

“Go ahead,” he breathed. “Ask.”

Her eyes blinked sadly, releasing a tear. “You’ve got a time machine…”

He shook his head, knowing exactly where that was leading. “I can’t, Jackie. That’s going back into my timeline, and it’s .. it’s impossible to go back without rupturing the timelines.”

“You said you couldn’t find her,” she offered, brightening just a little. “But maybe you did. Maybe you leave here, go back, and get her… Bring my baby home to me.”

His head dropped. “It doesn’t work like that.” His eyes lifted. “I wish I could, Jackie, but I can’t.” His eyes filled. “She’s gone,” he croaked. “Jackie, she’s gone, and I didn’t even get to tell her.”

Jackie broke before he did. Her sob seemed to draw one from him, and while they didn’t embrace, each of them fell into their own postures of sorrow.

“I’m not goin’ to believe it,” she sobbed out. “That my baby’s gone, until you bring her home to me.”

He shook his head. “I said I can’t. What you’re asking is impossible. I can’t turn back time no matter how much I want to.” He huffed. “And Rassilon, Jackie, my hearts are telling me to do it, to say to hell with Time’s rules and find her.”

“Then do it,” she challenged him. “Or at least try. My God, Doctor. Bring her home to me. We owe her that much.”

He stood up slowly and wiped at his eyes with the pads of his fingers on both hands. He inhaled a deep breath for composure through an open mouth and quivering jaw. “I have to go.”

“Please don’t,” she pleaded. “Don’t leave like this.”

He moved toward her, cupped the back of her head in his hand, and leaned down to press his lips against her forehead. “If there was anyway I could, then I promise you I would.”

“Five minutes,” she breathed out as she grasped his wrist lightly in her hand. “I want you back here in five minutes, you hear me? I’ll be waiting for you.”

He knew full well that despite her words being a command, that she didn’t truly mean it. He slowly rose up to stand at full height and thrust his hands deep into his trouser pockets. “Good bye, Jackie.”

“Don’t you dare say goodbye to me, Doctor,” she growled. “Don’t you dare.”

He gave her a half-hearted smile. “See you later, then.”

“Five minutes,” she called after his retreating form. “Five minutes, Doctor!”

He grit his teeth and let himself out onto the balcony. He only paused a moment to look across the courtyard toward his waiting TARDIS. Just a moment to take in the sight of Bucknall Hall for the last time and let it sear into his memory. 

Perhaps he should take a trip to the Lotto agent, pick up a ticket for Jackie. Rassilon knows that woman – as frustrating and terrifying as she could be – deserved at least that from him. It wouldn’t replace the daughter she lost, but it should make moving on somewhat less stressful.

He walked down the stairs, hands in his pockets, not looking anywhere but the ground at his feet. A shrill cry of a crow captured his attention, and he flicked his eyes to look toward it. A lonely soul, perched on the very top of a wooden telephone pole that has more staples in it from old posters and signage than it had wood. He shook his head at an old flapping piece of paper, barely noticing the fading remnants of graffiti drawn with marker.

Bad, it said, in script very much like the old Michael Jackson album of the 1980’s. Michael Jackson. What a performer. Maybe he should take himself back into the late 80’s and take in a concert? Could be a good way to take his mind off things.

Oh, but there was something at the hospital that he needed to check on first. Some warning he received from the TARDIS shortly before landing here. 

Probably nothing, but he’d better go check it out.

He ran his hand over the paper as he passed, letting his arm shift to behind him before letting go and allowing it to drop back to his hip. The paper fell with a flutter to the ground revealing the entirety of the message underneath.

_Bad Wolf._


	24. A Brother's Request

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor has a request of his brother...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Busy weekend.... not much time for writing ... but I did manage to put this together rather quickly.
> 
> But I have to go do adult things now like cleaning up and laundry and trying to wake up a teenage boy who thinks that sleeping in until 12:00pm is totally acceptable.
> 
> I want to sleep in until 12:00 ... Why am I not allowed to do that?
> 
> Please enjoy this wee chapter. Things will start to move quickly from here...
> 
> Thank you as always for your comments. They're a great inspiration.

~~oooOOOooo~~

The sky was in sunset and bright with a colourful wash of reds, oranges and purples when the Doctor finally emerged from the home he shared with his wife. There was a cool breeze coming in off the mountains that immediately chilled his bare arms, but he didn’t shiver with it. He simply lifted his head with a smile and let that breeze kiss at his cheeks and dry his lips. The setting suns meant that the Schlenk blooms would soon open and it wouldn’t be long until the orchard was alive with that most magnificent scent.

He certainly loved this time of day. Day coming to rest and night coming alive with vivid displays of majesty that two suns in the sky would never offer.

There was a call off in the distance, a low noted howl, which drew the Doctor’s attention from his quiet contemplative reverie. A smile crossed his handsome face as he lowered his head to look out into the distance. That howl was the call of his male Dahrama wolf toward his mate – an invitation to mate, he surmised, given the husky tone that danced across the treetops. The female’s returned howl was one much more playful, one that suggested if he was feeling a bit frisky, then he’d have to find her first.

That made the Time Lord chuckle. Between the two animals, the female was definitely the most playful. Her mate was the far more serious of the two – a protective and proud spirit partnered with a free falling playful soul. Very well suited toward the Human and Time Lord that they’d chosen to be their companions.

A shrill sound he’d never heard before captured his attention. It wasn’t an unpleasant sound by any means, but it was certainly a valiant attempt to join in the conversation between mates. The call was met with amused howls from the Dahrama pair, but not in a manner to suggest it was an unwelcome intrusion.

His eyes shifted to the source of the sound, and the small smile on his face fell into an open-mouthed expression of complete awe.

Rose stood at the very edge of the small creek than ran through the property. She was now only days away from birthing their child, and while she complained endlessly about being fat, ugly, and the size of a whale, he’d never found her to be more beautiful. She’d long ago foregone the desire to dress in the ways a woman dressed back on Earth. Now, she dressed in the attire of a Gallifreyan woman, with flowing skirts and Empire-waisted dresses. Typically she went for the brighter fabrics, but today she was more subdued in a soft cream dress with bell sleeves and an asymmetrical belt line that hung low at the back, and threaded up over the top rise of her belly. The light chilled winds lifted the skirts from her ankles and to flap lightly against her shins. The reflection of the setting suns off the waters at her feet shone through the thin fabric to give him a perfect silhouetted view of the figure she hid underneath. The perfect baby swell, her still toned thighs and arms, and even the shape of heavy swollen breasts that had long ago given up the fight against gravity to find comfort instead against her stomach’s swell.

She looked absolutely magnificent. He could almost cry at the majesty and perfection of the woman who had given him her heart and would soon give him a child…

…And he just might’ve allowed himself a few moments to do just that, had he not heard a wet sniff and shuddered inhale.

Her name was in his mind as he quickly left his reverent viewing position and approached her. Her name then fell from his lips with concern as he saw a line of tears on her cheek glittering in the sunlight.

“Rose?”

On hearing him speak her name with such concern, Rose quickly sniffed a deep inhale and wiped quickly at her eyes and nose with her sleeve that she’d captured in her hand. Her gave him a smile, not necessarily fake, but not exactly happy, either.

“Doctor. I didn’t see you there,” she managed to say without waver in her voice. “I didn’t think you’d be up and about so quickly.”

The fact that it was sunset and not sunrise, and she was expecting him to be unconscious should have him giving an indignant snort of protest. Typically. But not today. Full climax lovemaking did tend to completely shatter him and send him into a few hours of unconsciousness that would rival a regenerative coma. Typically he wouldn’t take his side of their lovemaking that far for that very specific reason, but she had insisted that she was quite done with carrying a “five-stone damn watermelon” and that sex – and the messy kind - was the best way to bring on labour. Something about his – ehm – seed being helpful in softening the cervix or some such nonsense. He couldn’t really argue, well he _could_ have tried to, but basic self preservation meant that even the attempt was a dangerous endeavour to engage in. That meant he had to give it his all on this round…

…Brilliant though it was, it was damn exhausting. Still. It was a small sacrifice for him by comparison to what she was about to head into. He was happy to answer her demand.

But that wasn’t exactly where his mind should be at right now. Rose. Tears. Focus.

“Are you alright?” he asked her as he let his hand find hers. He coaxed her into facing him with a light rug of his grasp. 

She further deepened her fake smile. “I’m okay.” She wiped at her eyes and gave them a roll as she showed him her damp fingrtips. “You’re worried about these? Don’t. It’s just, you know, hormones. The Beautiful landscape.”

He lifted his hand to brush off her cheeks with the back of his fingers. “I know you better than that,” he offered. “These aren’t happy tears.” His eyes dropped to her belly. “Is it the little one?”

Rose blinked and dipped her head to guide herself into a turn away from him. She looked back over the creek to the magnolia trees of the orchard. “He’ll be here soon,” she said softly. “Happy and healthy, with a Mum and a Dad who love him…”

“Very, very much,” he assured her.

“A mum and a dad,” she repeated softly.

The Doctor noticed a fresh tear fall from her lashes. He also noticed a wince on her face and a light falter in her posture that leaned her just slightly off to one side. Her breath deepened and became controlled and slow. “Rose?” He shifted his hand to her belly, sweeping around the swell with the palm of his hand. “It’s tight,” he remarked with a furrow in his brow. “Very tight.” The hardness quickly released along with Rose’s breath, and his eyes flashed wide with revelation.

“Rose,” he gushed with both panic and excitement. “It’s time?”

“No,” she said with an almost desperate shake of her head. “No. Not yet. Not at all.” She rubbed both hands up and down her belly either side of her popped-out navel. Her movements took his hands from her belly. “I-I’m not ready. Not yet.”

“I don’t think the readiness is up to you or I, Rose,” he cautioned with a smile. “It’s up to him.” The Doctor attempted to touch again at her swell, but was basically rejected from doing so when she stepped back. He didn’t push the issue, but he didn’t step back either.

“No, Doctor. You don’t get it. I’m really _not_ ready.”

“I understand your apprehension, Rose,” he offered with as little condescension as possible. “But it’s a little late to back out now, don’t you think?”

“Time machine?” she tried meekly. “We can go back, and maybe..?”

“Let me preface this comment by expressing just how much my hearts beat for you Rose,” he warned before taking a long breath. “You’re being just a little unreasonable and irrational right now.”

“Oh,” she warned with a shake in her head. “You haven’t seen me being unreasonable and irrational…”

“I imagine there’s far more to come,” he admitted as he pressed his hand to the small of her back. “Now let’s go back to the house and prep for transport to Arcadia.”

She remained firm, her back stiff, and her feet planted in the soft soil. “No, Doctor. Really. I’m not playin’ about. I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Again,” he urged her with a little harder of a press of his hand into her back. “Too late to back out now. Like it or not, ready or not, we’re about to become parents. So come on, Rose. I really think it’s time that we took you to the hospital.”

“Do you know how to change a nappy?” she challenged him, still unwilling to move. “And make sure his little bottom is properly dry and powdered so that he won’t get a nappy rash?” She panted as she felt the twinge of another oncoming contraction. “And how much to feed him? When to feed him? How to work out what he wants when he cries? What if I’m not a good enough….” Her words shifted to a long moan as the contraction hit her at full strength. “Oh, God…”

“That’s it,” the Doctor decided firmly. He moved his hand from her back to grab at her arm instead. “We’re going to the hospital. No more arguments.” 

“I can’t,” she whimpered out breathlessly as she tugged against him. There was sheer panic in her eyes as she battled both his grip, and the grip of her womb – one holding her up, the other trying to push her down to the ground. “I’m scared Doctor.”

“We both are,” he muttered in a less assuring way than he had intended to. “But with everything we do, Rose, we’ll do it, and get through it, together.”

She shook her head and tugged against him. “I can’t,” she whimpered, tears streaming down her face.

Her terrified expression, and her unwillingness to accept that the birth of their child was imminent despite whatever apprehensions or arguments she might have, punched at both of his hearts. He stopped trying to drag her to the house, and instead drew himself to a stand in front of her. He lifted his hands to cup at her face and dipped backward enough that he could look her in a straight line to her eyes.

“What do you need, Rose?” he asked her with desperation in his tone. “What can I do to help you right now?”

She broke at his question, dipping low in the shoulders and looking up into his eyes like a frightened child. Her voice was tiny. “I need my mum.”

His brows pinched with confusion. “Your _mother_?”

She nodded desperately. “I know you said we can’t … I can’t see her or contact her until the timeline’s right…”

“That’s right. Rose,” he assured her. “Until it’s stable, and we know the correct point in her timeline, we can’t…”

“But I need her,” she whimpered. “I’ve been through some stuff that she should be here for, Doctor. We’ve done it together, you’n me. And I’ve been okay with that, because that’s the way of the universe an’ all.” She swallowed, winced, and rubbed at the lowest part of her belly. Her eyes closed as she tried to maintain control as a smaller contraction tightened up her womb. “But not this. This is big. This is bigger than the both of us, and I can’t do this without her.”

“Rose,” he murmured somewhat pathetically. “We can’t…”

“Then I’m not doin’ it,” she growled. She then hiccupped and started to cry hopelessly. “I’m not … I _can’t_ do this.” Her voice fell to a manner so pathetic, it was practically infant. “I want my Mum.”

“I-I” He stammered in a manner completely lost. He stumbled as she pushed past him toward the house. Oh, he had no idea what to do right now. “How could he deny her the impossible when she was about to give him the same?

His eyes were locked on her retreating form as he pulled a phone from his trouser pocket and thumbed a now very familiar number. He looked down at the screen when he heard the chiming sound of the other end ringing. It only took a short moment for a chime to sound and the rather unimpressed expression of his brother’s face appeared on the screen.

“What is it Thete?” He answered with a sigh. “I’m busy right now. I’m at the capitol for council session. can we speak later?”

“I’m afraid not,” he answered. There was definitely worry in his tone, and this was picked up by his brother.

“Is everything okay?” He coughed into his fist and nodded to a passing person just off-screen. “Lord Spandrel,” he greeted.

The Doctor heard his brother’s name spoken in greeting and waited until enough of a moment had passed that his brother might be free from other Time Lord ears. “Rose is crying.”

“Living with you,” he came back quickly. “I would imagine that would be a rather frequent condition.”

“I’m not jesting,” he muttered with a sniff. “And there are, in fact, quite rarely tears., thank you”

Braxiatel looked off screen. “I’m needed in less than two minutes. Can you make the purpose of you call a little more worthy of my time than for you to tell me that your wife is upset with you?”

“I need your help,” he blurted. “And very quickly.”

Braxiatel’s brows lifted. “By quickly, you mean after the council session, or right this instant?”

The Doctor looked up to his home as the sound of a pained moan ghosted across the grasses. “Rose is in labour.”

Braxiatel’s mouth fell open and his face lifted in an a-ha expression. “I see. There is very little I can offer you on that except to arrange transportation.” He snapped his finger to someone passing off screen. “Nappesh, come here…”

“No,” the Doctor interrupted; I have that covered.”

Braxiatel shooed away the young man who he’d called. “Then what do you need from me?”

His eyes fell into a somewhat uncomfortable wince. “Rose. Well. Well…” He cleared his throat. “She wants her mother.”

“I see,” Braxiatel breathed out slowly. “I’m still not quite sure what this has to do with me.”

“I need you to find her,” he said with impatience. “Find the safest place in her timeline where I’m not at risk of returning to her in my elder incarnation, and bring her here to Gallifrey.”

Braxiatel gave him a big, wide, broad, and very fake smile. ‘Of course brother. Why, that’s the simplest, easiest favour that you’ve ever asked of me. No problems in the slightest – one I’m happy to arrange.”

The Doctor breathed out a long breath of relief, fully ignoring the every obvious facetiousness of his brother’s remark. “I’ll transport Rose to the hospital. Please collect her mother and meet us there.”

Knowing that Braxiatel would no doubt argue and tell him how impossible it was to arrange such a thing and so he would be out of luck – so to speak – the Doctor quickly hung up the phone. ignored it as it buzzed against his hand with a return call from his brother. He ignored it when it buzzed again.

“You can do it, Brax,” he muttered to himself as he tossed the phone into the bushes at the front door to his home. “If anyone can, it’s you.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Romana watched with curious eyes as Braxietel punched his fingertips into the face of his phone, no doubt in her mind at all that he was desperately trying to reach someone. Judging by the rather angry and exasperated expression on his face, and the cursing underneath his breath as he tried again, and yet again, she deduced that the Doctor had in someway managed to upset him…

…And right before a Council session of all times.

She excused her self from a conversation she was engaged in with another council member, and quickly moved across the floor toward her husband.

“Is everything okay, Brax?”

He growled as he tried yet again to reach the Doctor. “I would like to add an addendum to today’s council session,” he answered with a grunt. “I would like to ask the floor that we introduce a motion to have my brother permanently exiled from Gallifrey and rendered unable to ever reach me ever again.”

She let out a rather long suffering sigh. “What has he done now?”

“Rose is readying to birth their child,” he said with a sigh of his own. “And as usual, with my brother, he threw me a demand and hung up on me before I could tell him to go to the ends of Kasterborous and not ever regenerate.”

She shook her head at her husband’s concerted effort to remain indifferent to the news, but smiled. “I will forward your apologies to council. Go be with the two of them.”

“I have no desire at all to be party to this event,” he muttered dryly.

“That’s woprat dung, and you know it,” she challenged. You’ve been as eager for this day as have the two of them.” She put her hand on his arm and softened her tone to amusement and understanding. “Go and support your brother. I have a feeling he’s going to need it.” She smirked. “Evantiquen is still in recovery from the birthing of his little one – and that was two full celestial cycles ago. Your brother is a strong man for sure – but I think this just may test his resolve.”

He sniffed in hard. “Before I can do that, he’s made a request of me that I do need your permission for,” he began. “It violates several of our protocols.”

“And what might that be?”

“She’s requested the support of her mother. Her Earth mother,” he clarified.

Romana rolled her eyes. “Well, as she is a Human woman, I would expert that her mother be on Earth, Brax.” She watched him nod rather sheepishly. “And I will also expect that you had anticipated a request of this nature and have already made the appropriate investigations as to the most suitable moment within her timeline to being her here?”

“You give me far too much credit.”

“And you don’t give me anywhere near enough,” she charged. “Make it happen. You have full permission from the office of the President. Send in Castellan Andredaselus with an official invitation from the Presidential office. That will make permissions through Traffic control and the Transduction barrier faster.”

“If you are sure.”

“I insist,” she said firmly. “She is key to the salvation of our people, then the very least we can offer her is this rather simple request.”

Braxietel gave her a small bow of thanks. “Best of luck for a productive meeting,” he said with a smile. “It is such a shame to have to miss it.”

Romana laughed. “The rest of us could be so lucky, now do as your brother asks. I will see you at the hospital later.”

He took a very swift look around and then dropped to place a soft kiss to her cheek. Gallifreyan words of affection ghosted across her cheek toward her ear. In a moment, he was gone. She sighed at the uncanny ability of both of the Lungbarrow brothers to be able to make such swift departure, and turned when she heard a young military captain call for her.

“Captain Farmuh,” she greeted as he approached. “What can I do for you? Please make it quick, we start session in a few moments.”

“With apology Lady President, but I have news from the Terrapau system.”

At the mention of the constellation that she had requested observation on only weeks ago, her breath exhaled through her lips slowly. “What have you brought me?”

He passed her a folder, red and gilded in gold. “Reports from Terrapau suggest that the Daleks are fortifying their battle troops on the planet of Askola.”

Romana winced and looked quickly over the files contents, of the images produced by the scout capsule stationed on the moon. “Askola is non hostile,” she breathed. “They have no way to defend themselves against one Dalek, let alone five battle ships.”

“Scout team is requesting support to intervene. They feel that if we can deplete their armies here, it could be another three to seven celestial cycles before they can start to spread through the Terrapau system and move toward Kasterborous.”

“Is it the belief that Kasterborous is the intended target of the Daleks?”

“We believe so,” he huffed out darkly. “We will need more time than that if we are to adequately prepare ourselves for that eventuality.”

“Do it,” she hissed out as she slapped the file against his chest to hand it back. “ Send in as many battle capsules as the ships the Daleks have on Askola. Keep my office briefed on a minute-by-minute basis. If we have to pull a retreat, then I want to make sure it’s done in time.” She shifted to turn away, but turned back toward him. “Send in three Genesis Ark units. Try to get as many Askolians off planet as possible. They can be transported to Ferrioum until such time as their home is clear.”

He shook his head. “But, Lady president. Askola’s timeline, it’s…”

“I don’t care,” she interrupted with a hiss. “The planet may have a limited future, but it doesn’t mean its people must suffer the same fate. Retrieve as many as possible.”

He dipped his head in a bow. “As you wish, my Lady president.”

The council chamber doors hissed open. A large man, dressed in full Time Lord ceremonial robes called to the council members. She looked to the chairman of council and set a gold dome helmet on her head. She didn’t look back at the young military captain as she adjusted the heavy seat of her cowl.

“Rassilon with you,” she offered him. “And Rassilon with your soldiers. Gallifrey thanks you all for your service and will welcome home out victors.”

~~oooOOOooo~~


	25. Braxiatel's Joy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Braxiatel is having the time of his lives...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double-Chapter day!! 
> 
> Had to get this arc over and done with as it's time to get some action in...
> 
> ...That, and I needed a little levity to take me toward the next step.
> 
> I very much hope you enjoy!

~~oooOOOooo~~

Five minutes, she’d told him. Five minutes and no more. That alien had to return in five minutes with her daughter.

Jackie Tyler’s eyes were on the clock above the mantle; an old timepiece passed down to her from her grandmother. It was an old thing, but very reliable. Deep mahogany wood casing drawing a stark contrast to the white crocheted cotton doily it sat upon. Well, it was white, once. The years had turned the thread a more muted shade of yellow and had become so sorely brittle that she was scared to shift it lest it fall apart completely on her.

She ran her finger over the smooth arching shape of the top of the clock, collecting six months worth of dust on her fingertip and leaving a clear and straight, clean and dust-free line from edge to edge. Two minutes gone, and three more to wait. 

Grief for the loss of her beloved baby girl was settling in quite nicely in the sit of her shoulders. It hovered at the very edge of her consciousness and knocked at the door just waiting to be freed and let loose to run rampant all over this small flat. She held it firm, however, bolstered by her demand to that ruddy Time Martian Alien to bring back her Rose.

One and a half minutes until the count was over.

The damn fool was notorious for not being able to get himself anywhere or any time – on time – so, perhaps she would offer him the grace of an additional five minutes, just in case. 

A familiar whine and wheeze sang across the winds coming in from the courtyard and through her open door. A sob of terror flew out of her as she broke from the mantel and rushed to the door. She paused only a moment to prepare herself with a deep breath, not even looking into the courtyard for fear of what condition her Rose was returning in…

…It didn’t matter. Even if that return meant a casket. As long as she was home, that’s all that mattered. 

She took the stairs two and three at a time with long strides and dangerous leaps to get to the courtyard as quickly as possible. Her daughter’s name called out of her mouth with each staggered step until she finally ran into the courtyard, fully expecting to see that blasted blue ship of his.

It wasn’t there. She twisted and turned in place, shielding her eyes with her hand against the sun, wondering if there was a trick of the light that might prevent her from seeing it clearly. No matter how hard she looked, however, there was not blue police box anywhere to be seen.

…But she was sure she’d heard it. Nothing else on the planet made a sound like that. Surely she didn’t just imagine it.

She slumped in place, defeat taking hold, and shifted her head to lead her into a turn back toward the flat. There was a hiss of released air, and the grating squeaking sound of metal shifting against unoiled metal. She stilled, with her head angled sideways to look down along her shoulder as a line of light split open to reveal a doorway in the middle of a large grey cylinder up against a wall at the edge of the courtyard.

Two men exited the cylinder. Both of them dressed like they were ready for a Shakespeare production. Well, maybe Shakespeare. Maybe not. She really didn’t have a lot of money to indulge in things like theatre. Though, if she did go, she’d imagine that these two fellows would fit right in.

Both of them wore very sharp and very bright red jacket and trouser set with a runway set of white racing stripes down the chest and each leg. Their gloves were gauntlets, their boots gold and to the knees. She didn’t even want to get into the cape and helmets that they both wore…

Superman versus Shakespeare…

She stood warily still as both of the men approached. One of them held a paper document in his hand speaking to his companion in a language she didn’t understand, nor even recognise. He looked up, pointed a finger up toward her flat, and looked at his partner with a firm nod of his head. They each twisted a dial on the left side of their helmets and then shared a look.

“Language, English. Earth,” one spoke with deliberate emphasis on each word. “Confirm translation matrix active.”

“Translation confirmed,” the other answered.

“Alright, Nexius,” the one who was obviously in charge ordered firmly. “Let’s move. We are time limited on this task, and Rassilon saves us both if we fail.”

The two men headed straight toward her, although didn’t seem to register that she was in their way. The Both of them seemed far more focused on the papers in one hand, the other was far too fascinated by the surrounding area. She felt it best to alert them to her presence before they collided with her and she’d be forced to make this a very unpleasant situation for all of them…

…But mostly just them.

“Excuse me,” she growled somewhat hotly. “Can I help you? You know before you run into me…”

One man stepped a stride backward in a respectful manner, while the other moved a step forward, snapping his ankles together and stiffly offering her a light bow of greeting. “Apology, ma’am.”

“Oh, I’m no ma’am,” she huffed out with amusement. “And I take it neither of you are from around here.”

“Indeed no. Nor from around here as you put it.” He looked upstairs. “But if you are offering assistance, might you be able to direct me in how I might find one: Jacqueline Tyler?”

She folded her arms across her chest, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. “And why might you be looking for her, then?”

Andred blinked slowly, recognising the fire of a human female readying to kick a groin, punch a face, or react in an unpleasant manner. Quite likely this woman was a close friend of Jaqueline, or even Jacqueline herself.

“I have an invitation from the Presidential Offices of Gallifrey, issued by her Lady President Romanadvoratrelundar to one Jacqueline Tyler, to accompany us to the city of Arcadia…”

Jackie started to laugh. How absurd was this? “Oh, you’re havin’ me on,” she blustered. “An’ I’d love to know who set this up. Tell ‘em, thanks, but no thanks. I’m actually waitin’ on someone right now who seems to be runnin’ a bit behind.”

Defintitely Jackie, Andred surmised. He held out his hand, palm up, in a gesture of greeting. “Mrs. Tyler,” he said with a light tip in his head of greeting. “If you will please accompany me, we need to transport you to Gallifrey…”

She swatted off his hand. “There will be no transportin’ anything,” she guffed with eyes wide and her lips pursed indignantly. “I don’t know what game you’re playin’, or what you’re trying to sell me young man, but I’m not interested.” Her eyes raked him up and down. “Despite being a bit fit an’ all.”

One side of his mouth lifted in a smile. He’d take that compliment home to his wife and boast about it.

“Permit me to introduce myself: I am Castellan Andreasalus.” He dipped his head in greeting yet again. “Your presence has been requested by our Lady President and Cardinal Braxiatel, Mrs. Tyler,” he urged with friendly gentleness. “It is of great importance that you accompany us to Arcadia.”

“Yeah,” Jackie interrupted with a snort. “Yeah, well. I don’t answer to no presidents,” she warned. “I have a Queen and a Prime Minister.” She sniffed. “And I’m not religious enough to ever have to answer to any church-folk.”

Andred looked back at his companion with a shrug in his shoulders. His companion smirked. “You’re the one who has experience with Human females,” he said with an answering shrug. “Shall I call Council Chambers and see if we can have Romana or the Cardinal transport down?”

Jackie’s eyes narrowed. “You just called me a Human female.”

Andres flashed her an apologetic look. “Are you not Human?” He looked at his papers. “I was quite sure that we had input the coordinates to Earth.”

“You an alien, then?” She caught just an upward glance from his papers and hope started to rise inside her chest. “Are you friends with the Doctor?”

Andred’s attention shifted immediately from the paper and he gave her a firm nod. “Cardinal Braxiatel is the Doctor’s brother,” he answered. “He has requested your presence at Arcadia at the appeal of his brother.”

Jackie’s eyes hardened to suspicion. “And why is it that the Doctor isn’t able to come to me himself?”

Andred smirked. “His Lord Doctor is currently in a rather provocative position right now that is demanding his full attentions. He is unable to leave Gallifrey at this juncture.” 

“He’s got a time machine,” she muttered. “Tell him to drop by when he’s not in such a provocative position.” She pointed toward the cylinder behind them. “Because I ain’t gettin’ into that thing and transporting any-damn-where.”

Andred looked to his capsule and then back toward Jackie. His eyes were confused. “It’s a perfectly safe mode of transportation,” he assured her. “We’ve been travelling via T-Capsule for many millennia, and I can certainly assure that you won’t experience any discomfort or danger at all.”

“You’ve met the Doctor,” she drawled sardonically. “Well, so have I, and my daughter travelled with him. I know how dangerous travelling in that thing really is.”

“Yes, well,” Andred returned with an amused grin. “I’m not the Doctor. I actually know how to properly pilot this machine. Mine is also a much newer model than the Doctor’s museum piece is.” He held out a hand to her. “Please, come with me. Your daughter needs to see you.”

Jackie’s eyes lifted. Tears of relief flooded her eyes. “You mean, my Rose is alive?”

“Very much so,” Andred offered. “Please, come with me. I’ll take you to her.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

When the capsule materialised just off the maternity wing at Arcadia, Romana was waiting. She’d received word from Traffic control about the imminent arrival of the Castellan’s capsule, and rather than disturbing Braxiatel or the Doctor, she opted to be there to meet them herself.

She had made her way to the hospital almost immediately following the council meeting, which had mercifully finished a couple of hours earlier than originally scheduled. Such a rarity, but with the bulk of the proposed motions being from Braxiatel, and his absence at the meeting, meant that none were read…

…Although several new ones had been proposed, and seconded, which mean a reconvene on another day to hold vote when all members were present. This was to her advantage, however, as it gave her time to court the right members and make appropriate deals in order to see that the vote went in her favour. It also allowed for her to convene with those most trusted to her: The Doctor and Braxietal, in order to solve a few problems directly related to the votes first.

If she could get the Doctor to agree, of course. Which at this juncture wasn’t a high possibility. But then again: Doctor versus Dalek was usually a fairly effective carrot by which to dangle in front of her old friend. Having his wife’s mother on planet would also be an incentive of sorts.

When the doors to the capsule hissed open, and Andred stepped outside, Romana offered him a smiel and a light tip of her head in both greetings and appreciation. “Thank you, Castellan. I heard that you were able to fulfill your task rather efficiently.”

“If you could call it that,” he answered with a smile. He stepped aside, and the blonde head of Jackie Tyler poked out of the doorway.

“Are we here?” she queried with disbelief. “Surely we can’t already be on another planet. We only left two minutes ago.”

“Welcome to Gallifrey, Mrs. Tyler,” Romana greeted with a polite tip of her head. “I am Romanadvoratrelundar. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“That name’s a bit of a mouthful,” Jackie remarked with a lift of her brows as she walked in a circle in the corridor. There was definite disappointment in her tone. “Well. I must say that I expected a little more than this from a trip to another planet. Looks just like Earth, all sterile corridors and people running around.” She stopped and gasped. “Are we in a hospital?!”

Romana opened her mouth to speak, but quickly shut it again, her eyes wide with surprise when Jackie burst into talking without even taking a breath.

“Is my baby in here? Did the Doctor find her. Oh, bless. He brought her here and didn’t want to leave her.” There was a soft look in her eyes that suggested an affection for the Time Lord. “No wonder he sent the Dynamic Shakespeare duo to get me.”

Romana waited a beat to see if the woman would continue to speak. When Jackie’s curious eyes looked at her to answer the question, Romana;s eyes relaxed and a smile spread across her face.

“You may call me Romana,” she offered. “I am a close friend of the Lord Doctor, and of your daughter Rose. She is here, however, you mustn’t worry for her condition. As per the last update, she’s progressing quite well.” She waved her hand to request that Jackie follow. “She’s a strong spirit, Rose. The only one capable of keeping the Doctor in any semblance of what you would term _toeing the line_.”

Jackie didn’t feel like walking behind the woman, but she took position of stride at her side. “Rose isn’t exactly one for toeing any line. Little madam as been cartwheeling over it since she hit her teens.”

That was an image that had Romana’s brows seat themselves high. “I suppose she can rein in the master of the line jumping because she’s been so good at it herself,” she mused to herself. She heard a loud swear in her ancient language and lifted her eyes toward a door near the end of the corridor. Braxiatel waited just outside with a highly amused expression on his face.

Romana held a polite hand up to Jackie to ask for a moment, and approached her husband warily.

“Is everything okay, Brax?”

“In all my lives,” he muttered with laughter. “I don’t believe that I’ve been so thoroughly entertained.” He held out his hand to her. “My hearts, my most honest thanks for suggesting that I attend today.”

“Oh my,” she managed with a sigh that held slight amusement. “What’s happening in there?”

“Vengeance on behalf of all of Gallifrey for every misdeed that my brother has brought upon us.” He looked at her with awe in his eyes. “She’s absolutely obliterating, emasculating, and torturing him all at the same time. It’s perfection in its majesty. I will write screenplays and songs about this day.”

Romana shook her head with a smile. “Braxiatel, please meet Mrs. Tyler. Rose’s mother.”

Jackie curled around Romana and held out her hand. “Jackie, please. Mrs. Tyler was my mother in law, and not a real sweet woman. Rather not have that title thank you.” 

Braxiatel’s was of a very uncharacteristic manner that shocked even his wife. He rushed forward and embraced a stunned Jackie Tyler in a very firm embrace. “My dear woman! It is a pleasure to meet the one who birthed that magnificent creature.”

“Very inappropriate, Cardinal,” Romana gruffed. “Especially as your _mate_ is present.”

Braxiatel released Jackie, who really ended up more amused than miffed at the sudden explosive affectional greeting from a complete stranger. He held her shoulders and dipped his head with a smile. “My apologies for acting so familiar with you. It’s just…” There was a loud holler from the room and he stepped back, sliding an arm around each of the two women. “Watch this.”

“Get out! Just leave! I hate you for doing this to me!” There was a short moment of silence, where there was obviously an attempt at appeasement, but that was short. “I said get out!”

Jackie’s eyes were wide. “Is that my Rose?” She shifted to move forward, but was held in place by Braxiatel’s firm grip. 

“Oh, just wait. Please. Don’t take this from me.” 

The Doctor’s head made it out of the doorway, his hair a frightful mess of auburn curls, and his eyes full of utter confusion and some form of utter terror. He managed a desperate look toward his brother, a look that lasted a second before it fell to an expression of defeat when another holler followed.

“Are you actually leaving, Doctor? What makes you think you can leave! Get back here now and let me grab at something to hurt you as much as I’m hurting!”

Braxiatel threw his head back with laughter. “This has been going on for hours!”

Jackie’s expression shifted from amusement to startled concern. “That sounds like a woman in labour,” She looked to Romana. “Tell me that my baby isn’t here having a baby – and that she’s not havin’ one with _that_ Alien git.”

Romana wasn’t quite sure hot to appropriately field that question. Her mouth gaped as she struggled to find an answer.

“Oh you don’t need to say nothin’,” she growled as her hands balled into fists and she began a stalk toward the room. “I’ll kill him if he found my baby and then kept her from me long enough to knock her up.” 

Braxiatel’s grin only widened as he happily trotted behind her. “I’ve got to see this.”

Jackie entered the room with all the subtlety of a wrecking ball. “What the hell is goin’ on here?” She pointed a finger toward the frazzled Time Lord. “I said five minutes. I did not say do find her and put one in her oven.”

The Doctor looked stunned. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

Rose’s face widened with pleasant surprise, but quickly dissolved into a juvenile expression of calling to a mother. She held out her arms. “Mum!”

Jackie stood firm and levered a very miffed off expression toward her daughter. “Don’t you _Mum_ me, little madam.” She did have a rant ready, but it quickly fled when Rose’s head lifted and she let out an agonised moan. “Oh my baby girl,” she cooed instead, rushing from the doorway to take her daughter in her arms. “It’s okay. Mum’s here now.”

“My God it hurts,” she whined pitifully. “It hurts so much.”

“Then take some painkillers darling,” she advised almost condescendingly. “And don’t gimme none of that _but I have to do it natural, Mum._ So you can skite about it on the internet. They’re not giving you a medal when this is over, they’re giving you a baby. Trust me, you’re going to want all the energy you can get those first coupl’a days, and you won’t get that being all sore and exhausted.” She looked toward a nurse in bright red scrubs. “You, make sure my little girl gets the good stuff, yeah? Epidural, Gas, all of it.”

The nurse looked toward the Doctor with question in her eyes. The Doctor was looking at Jackie with much the same expression.

“I’m very sorry,” he half growled through his teeth. “But we are in a facility with medical personnel, who..”

“And are any of them Human and given birth?” she shot back angrily. “Have you popped one out?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “No. I didn’t think so.” He pointed at her chest. “Whereas I have, which makes me more of an expert in the mindset of a labourin’ woman and the pain of childbirth than any of ya.” She looked to the Doctor and then to the nurse. “Am I understood?”

The Doctor – despite feeling some form of relief with her arrival, and Rose’s rising calm – steeled a glare at her. “Perfectly.”

“Good,” Jackie replied brightly. She slipped her cardigan off her shoulders and rolled up the sleeve of the long sleeved shirts to her elbows. “Glad we got that sorted. Now Rose, just breathe and relax as best you can. I know you hate ‘im right now, and love, so do I, but the poor man is only trying to help, so start playing nice with him.”

Rose nodded. “I’ll try.”

Jackie then turned to the Doctor. She let her eyes rake up and down his new look and shrugged a shoulder up with approval. “New look? Can’t say I disapprove, you do tend to get more fit each time you change.”

His jaw dropped. “Ahh. Yes.”

“And stop pretendin’ like you don’t know who I am,” she huffed. “Been through it, you ‘n me.” She looked toward her daughter. “Now, she’s in pain, a great deal of it. She’s right when she says it’s all your fault, because I’d hazard a fairly large guess that this condition is much more your fault than hers.” She flicked her eyes to him. “So if she wants your testicles in her hands so she can give ‘em a damn good squeeze to get out her frustrations, then you best give ‘em to her.”

“I’m sorry, _what_?”

At the doorway, Braxiatel leaned in toward Romana. There was a smile on his face. “My hearts, can we please keep her?”

Jackie shot him a glare. “And you, Mr. Brax-a-whatever, are not helping. Either you stop with your giggle-pussin’, over there or you can leave. This is not your show, it’s hers.” She pointed toward Rose. “And you’re not stealing her thunder, you hear me?” 

Romana leaned into her husband with a soft voice filled with amusement. “Oh yes, darling. We can certainly arrange to keep her.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Wrapped in a soft crimson blanket, edged in gold, and embroidered with a Gallifreyan lullaby, nestled a tiny naked newborn boy. His little tiny feel kicked, and his little fingers grasped at the thumb of his immediately besotted father.

“Hello, little one,” he cooed in a voice of utter reverence as he drew the little bundle up to his face and nuzzled his nose against the peach-soft skin of his newborn. Words in his native tongue followed, softly spoken and audible only between father and son.

Jackie sat on the gurney beside her exhausted daughter, her arm across her shoulder so that Rose could rest her head against her shoulder. “Look at ‘im,” she breathed out with pride. “A natural, he is.”

“I wish I was,” Rose admitted tiredly. “I’m not sure I know what I’m doing.”

“None of us do,” Jackie assured her. “I never had a clue when I had you. They put you in my arms, walked away, and I nearly had a fit. Your dad got kicked out because it was after visitin’ hours, and all of a sudden I was alone, with this squirmy little tiny human that I was responsible for…” She blew out a breath. “But I got through it. We all do. The two of you will.”

“Can you stay a while?” she asked. “Please?”

“I haven’t asked for any time off,” she replied with disappointment. “Could you come home?”

“I have a time machine,” the Doctor cut in as he handed over their little bundle so that Rose could coo over their child. “You can stay here with us as long as you want to. I’ll make sure that you’re returned the same day that you left.”

Jackie snorted. “With your piloting skills, I don’t think so,” she muttered. “That nice young man. The one who came to get me. Andred, is it? He can take me home.” She smiled and waggled her brow. “Is he married, by the way?”

“He is,” the Doctor answered. “To a very good friend of mine. Why do you ask?”

“Oh,” she breathed with disappointment. “No reason.” Her attention shifted to the youngster as his little head turned and his mouth gaped in search for food. “Oh. Looks like our little precious is looking for a feed.” She waved off the Doctor. “This is for the ladies, Doctor. Here Rose, let me help you with this. They say it’s natural, but I found it anything but.”

He gasped when Jackie unashamedly whipped up Rose’s top and took her breast in hand. “Oh-Kay,” he managed with a red face and pinking ears. He caught both his brother and Romana waiting at the doorway and offered them a proud smile as he walked toward them.

“Wasn’t she amazing?”

Romana gave him a hug. “Congratulations, Doctor. Your son is beautiful.”

“In other words, nothing like you,” Brax cut in with a smile of teasing. He held out a hand to offer a friendly shake. “Congratulations, Brother. May Rassilon, Omega and the Other watch over that youngster and let him rise to be as good a Time Lord as any of them were.”

“Better,” the Doctor assured him. 

Braxiatel nodded. “We can only hope.”

The Doctor noted a somewhat uncomfortable sense emanating from the two of them. “Is everything okay?”

Romana looked toward Rose, who was still being handled by her mother in an attempt to master feeding off the breast. She then looked back at the Doctor. “Can we step outside a moment?”

The Doctor looked at his wife, and then his child still searching for a latch-point, and deduced that he wouldn’t be missed if he stepped out for a moment or two. “Sure,” he murmured as he led them to the corridor. “But I don’t want to be away from them for too long. I imagine once the adrenaline of our son’s birth has gone, Jackie is going to want some answers.”

“And ones you’re not all that eager to give,” Romana suggested.

He scratched at his head. “You cold say that.” He closed the door to the room and leaned up against the wall beside it. “So what do you need to talk about?”

Braxiatel and Romana shared a look, a very uneasy look, and one that immediately worried the Doctor. He tipped his head to one side with suspicious curiosity. “What’s happened?”

Romana looked off to one side. She winced, and then she turned back to him. “The Daleks have invaded Askola in the Terrapau system.”

Dread flooded his chest. “And?”

“We sent in five battle capsules, and three Genesis Arks in an attempt to rescue as many Askolians as possible. The battle capsules were supposed to hold back the Dalek fleet while our rescue crews worked to evacuate as many civilians as they could.” She sighed. “We were going to have them sent as refugees to Ferrioum…”

“I take it that it didn’t quite go to plan?”

She shook her head. “There weren’t enough personnel in our capsules. They couldn’t hold back the Daleks…”

“They took control of the Arks,” Braxiatel added. “Thousands of innocent Askolians trapped inside Genesis Arks with no way to escape.”

“At least there’s no way for the Daleks to get in and try to exterminate them,” the Doctor offered with a purse in his lip. “We have that.”

“But we still need to clear them of Askola and get them to safety.”

The Doctor waited for them to continue. When neither of them did, he let out a huff and lowered his head. “And somehow I have the feeling that this rescue in some way involves me.”

“I know that you’ve just watched your mate give birth to your child, and I know the timing is horrible,” Romana pleaded. “But there are women, children, and elders locked away under Dalek control. They might not know how to open up an arc…” she took a breath. “But it won’t take long for them to work it out.”

The Doctor’s eyes flashed. “Do they have any of our Gallifreyan soldiers as prisoners, or did they exterminate all of them?”

“I don’t know, Doctor,” she answered with regret. “The last communication we received from the scout ship couldn’t answer that question. We have to assume they’ve all been lost.”

“Worse to think any of them survived,” the Doctor admitted. “One touch is all it takes, Romana.”

“I know.”

“Which means we are very short on time,” Braxiatel added. “You are the one who knows them best. You, alone, can handle an entire army. We know that asking you this right now is asking far more than we should…”

“Bring Leela up to speed,” the Doctor said firmly. “Give Andred time away from Council to remain home with their son, and let Leela come with me. The two of us have faced them together in the past. I am sure that together, we can handle them again.”

“Are you sure?” Romana asked with a look to the door. “Shouldn’t you ask your mate before giving us your answer?”

“I’ll speak with her,” he said quietly. “I’m sure she’ll have no real objections to it. We have innocent people held by an enemy loathed by us both.” He flicked up a finger. “But you. Both of you. You will make yourselves available at any time you’re required if she needs it. No matter the time nor the request, you _will_ honour it.”

Romana put her hand on Braxiatel’s arm before he husband could argue. “Consider it my honour,” she promised firmly. 

“And if something should happen to me…”

“She will be treated with honour,” Romana vowed. “Although I’m confident that won’t be necessary.” She gave him a smile. “You _have_ a future time line from here.”

“That’s not always a guarantee,” he huffed. He then pressed his hand to the door. “Give me until morning,” he said with a look over his shoulder. “Have Romana at my home when the suns break. We’ll travel by my TARDIS.”

“Thank you,” Romana breathed out appreciatively. “thank you, Doctor.”

“yeah,” he said with a sigh as he pushed against the door and walked into the room to be with his family – hopefully not for the last time.

Romana exhaled a shuddering breath as the door closed behind him. “I hate doing this to him,” she admitted. “But we don’t have a choice.”

“He knows that.”

“Still.” She huffed out a long breath. “It’s not fair to him – or to her.” She turned to her husband with worry in her eyes. “I’m scared, Brax. I truly am.” She looked back at the door. “Something’s coming, and I don’t know that any of us are anywhere near prepared for it.”

~~oooOOOooo~~


	26. Egypt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donna catches up with a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ridiculously short one today.. Got stupid-ridiculous-nasty busy and more interruptions than normal... this means I got a little rattled and thrown off...
> 
> I had intended on a Dalek-heavy chapter, but knew my time was limited today. Daleks and Doctor mean some deep thinking and plenty of time to get it right ... that should happen tomorrow...
> 
> Anyhow. I hope you enjoy this little snippet, and the wee bit of foreshadowing it offers.
> 
> GK

~~oooOOOooo~~

Donna Noble shook out the dampness in her long auburn hair and slipped a fall coat over her shoulders. Fresh from a hot, clean shower that she had so sorely missed over the past fortnight, and armed with gifts, she stepped out of the front door and walked the short trek toward the footpath. The night was brisk, and she shuddered with its chill, unused to the biting cold after leaving extreme hot weather temperature only a handful of hours ago.

Thankfully her destination was close – next door in fact – and she was at the front door of Rose Tyler’s home in less than a minute. Months of friendship and easy social calls meant that Donna no longer knocked on the heavy wooden door when she visited. She simply turned the handle and let herself in.

Which she did.

Knowing that she would be accosted by two very protective dogs if she didn’t immediately announce her presence, she called out to her friend as she dropped her bag on loot on the floor and took off her jacket.

“Just me, Rose,” she called out as she hung the coat neatly on a hook at the door. 

“In the living room,” Rose called out. “Come on in.”

Donna picked up the plastic bag and kicked off her shoes. On bare feet she walked into the living room with a smile. “Miss me?”

Rose was seated on a comfortable love seat. She wore an oversized hooded sweater with the sleeves rolled up to her wrists, paired with a pair of cropped black leggings. Her feet were tucked up underneath her, and she leaned an elbow on the arm rest. There was a glossy magazine on her knees and a glass of red wine in her hand. She looked toward Donna with a broad smile. “How was Egypt?”

“Hot,” she answered with a blown puff of breath held inside her puffed cheeks. “And very dusty.” She leaned forward to snatch an empty wine glass off a tray and helped herself to a generous serving of Rose’s wine. “But absolutely wonderful.”

“I can’t wait to hear all about it,” Rose said with a smile as she held up her glass in a salute. “And hope more to hear some sordid tales of a holiday romance with a handsome Egyptian boy.”

“None to tell, I’m afraid,” she admitted. “And besides, being on a safari trip where the only showering I could do was every three days under a filthy water bag, I don’t think any of them would go near me for the smell.” She took a sip of the wine and settled back in the armchair across from Rose. “I think I just washed about a year’s worth of dust out of my hair, and I was only there for two weeks.”

Rose chuckled. “But aside from lack of showering and bits of sand finding its way into places it should never venture, how was it?”

She groaned long. “It was amazing! Irving was right, the best way to experience it is by camelback and tents – not hotels and guided tours.” She pointed to her bag. “I got him something to say thanks if you wouldn’t mind giving it to him next time you see him. Also got some swag for the kids too. How are they?”

Rose tipped her head to her shoulder. “Mark started school last week for the fall semester. He’s still having trouble with his English skills, but is getting through without too much teasing from the other kids.”

“And Alirra? Started talking yet?”

Rose shook her head. “Still non-verbal. Brax arranged for a speech therapist to help out, but she’s remaining mute.” She sighed. “They think it’s the trauma of losing her dad, and don’t reckon she’ll say anything anytime soon.”

Donna offered a smile. “Well, look at it this way, Rose: The sooner they talk, the sooner they talk back.”

That made Rose laugh. “Isn’t that the whole truth?” She then sighed. “In time, I’m sure she’ll start talking, and will probably be talking in full sentences when she does.”

Donna’s eyes widened. “You know, you’re right. I had a friend of mine. Well, not so much a friend, she was a bit of a bint…”

“Donna!” Rose chided with a laugh.

“Oh, there are times that that word is really appropriate, Rose. Trust me,” she scoffed. “I bet you got an old friend or two that you call the same.”

Rose bit at the edge of her glass in a smile. “Maybe.”

“Anyway,” Donna continued. “So she had this friend, who had a little girl, who was completely non verbal till she was about four. They sent her to all the specialists to figure it out. Nothing. Nothing at all.” She took a sip of her drink and winced a little at the burn at the back of her throat. “Anyway. One day, the little one just pipes up out of nowhere and starts talking. Full sentences and all, like a walking thesaurus of words.” She tipped her glass toward Rose. “So little Alirra. Wouldn’t mind too much, she’s still a young’un with plenty of time to start snarkin’ back at her mother.”

“Spoken like a true genius in the ways of snarkin’”

“Sassin’,” she corrected. “I sass, not snark.”

Rose leaned forward a short way, enough that the magazine fell of her lap. “Really, Donna. Is there a difference?”

She shook her shoulders in a sideways and sassy manner. “Being sassy is sexy. You’re a woman of the world, not takin’ any guff.” She stopped her dancing. “Being snarky is just bein’ a bitch.”

“I see,” Rose said with a smile. “So, the actual definition of it is quite subjective.”

“You got that right.” She murmuered as she leaned down to pick up the magazine. Her face drew into an immediate frown as she looked at the front cover, turning it left, and then right. “My God, Rose. What the hell language is this?”

“Arcadian,” she answered with a shrug. “Romana brought it up in her last visit. It’s the Arcadian version of a trashy celebrity mag.” She tipped her glass toward it. “Except about the council members, and not actual celebrities.” She widened her eyes playfully. “It can get quite salacious.”

“No celebrities where you’re from, then?”

“I’m from London,” Rose said with a laugh. “Plenty of them here.” She shrugged. “My husband’s home, no. Not really. They really don’t have the time for that kind’ve nonsense. Everything is politics over there.”

Donna still turned the cover this way and that. “No music? No TV and acting? No sports?”

She shook her head. “Yes, but there’s no reverence to them like there is here.”

“How boring,” she noted as she set the magazine on her knee and flicked through the pictures. She held up her wine glass with her elbow on the armrest. Laziness to switch her position out to less of a slouch forced her to life herself up when she wanted a sip. “Not a very young looking bunch over there,” she mused after a moment and several flicks of the page. “Not a lot of eye candy either.”

Rose chuckled. “The fit ones stay out of politics.” She leaned forward to refill her glass. “The Chancellery Guard soldiers, on the other hand…” she winked and blew out a breath. “Puts the Fireman calendar to shame.”

“And have they put one out?” she practically hummed, not looking up from the magazine as she flicked page to page. “And if so, where do we get one?” She suddenly stopped flicking and let out a low purr of appreciation. “Right, now that’s a politician I can put my vote behind.”

Rose’s brows lifted curiously. She straightened up her back and leaned forward to peek. “Which one?”

Donna held up the page and pointed at the image, awkwardly extending one of the fingers still cupped around the glass to do so. “This one. Full details if you’ve got ‘em, including the next flight out of London toward Arcadia.”

Slowly Rose unfolded her legs and shifted forward to take the magazine in her hand. She put her wine glass on the coffee table and looked at the half-page image of her husband. Below was a caption indicating that a universe-wide warrant had been issued to secure his return to Gallifrey. A war was raging in the outer rings of Kasterborous, and all capsules had been recalled to Gallifrey. At the time this magazine went to print, the Doctor had not responded and was considered by Council a fugitive.

Her breath exhaled sadly as she drew the magazine onto her knees and let her middle fingertips of both hands trace along the sides of the face in the image. “Oh, Thete,” she whispered softly.

Donna gasped with realisation. “Is that him?” she asked breathlessly as she jumped from the chair and scooted around the table. She unceremoniously plopped down on the couch beside Rose – close enough that their legs lined up against each others – and snatched the magazine from her hand. “This is your husband?” she queried as she much more closely analysed the image; one of him staring impatiently into the camera as he walked the corridor of Council Chambers. “God, Rose, he was gorgeous.”

Rose shifted to lean against Donna’s shoulder and smiled. “Yeah. He really was.”

“What was his name?”

Rose had to think on that one. She could recite his real name, the one given to him by his parents, but that would raise far more questions about him than she’d prefer to have to answer. She could refer to him as Doctor, of course, but again: questions. Instead she settled on the name used by his brother, and in the end, the name she’d use for him.

“His name was Theta,” Rose answered. “But Brax and I, we called him Thete.”

“Unusual name,” Donna remarked softly. “But I like it. Makes him sound clever.”

“And he was,” Rose agreed. “ _Very_ clever.”

“Politician like Irving and Romana?”

Rose shook her head. “no, he wasn’t,” she answered with a small smile. “He viewed council business as being a pompous load of rubbish. Thete was a doctor. He headed up the medical team in arcadia’s main hospital.”

Donna lifted her head and took a cursory scan of the living room wondering just why it was that this was her first glimpse at Rose’s husband. While there certainly were plenty of photographs of her and the kids around, there didn’t appear to be a single image of their father – her husband – anywhere. She found that curious. “Tell me, Rose. Why don’t you have pictures of him around here?” she queried softly. 

“It upsets Alirra,’ Rose answered quietly. “I don’t know that she’ll ever get over losing him in the way we did.”

“You’ve never mentioned what happened,” Donna remarked quietly, but with heavy curiosity in her tone. 

Rose flopped back deep into the back of the couch. Her eyes were wide and locked on the image of her husband. Although obviously annoyed, the camera did capture the roguish, handsome expression that she’d fallen in love with so long ago.

How could she describe their loss to Donna? Did she want to tell her about the last time she saw him; on his knees with his chest forward and his head thrown back with a gaping mouth screaming out a long howl of agony as her mirror image tore everything from his mind … in full view of her and her children?

Could she tell her about him tearfully begging not to take it all away from him? Begging for the safety of his wife and their children? And then be told in the voice of the woman his hearts beat for that this life was never meant to be his … that victory would not come without sacrifice. He would never know, ever again, and she’d make very sure of that – whereas his wife, well she’d be condemned to remember it all….

…Their intact bond never allowing her to take another.

Bloody faery tales and boogey men. No, she couldn’t tell her that.

“It was a work accident,” she answered instead. “Just a typical day at the office gone horribly wrong.”

Donna let out a supportive and empathetic sigh. “I’m so sorry, Rose.”

Rose’s return smile was weak, but honest. She gave her a nod, wiped at her eyes and then took a long deep draw from her wine glass. “It’ll get better in time,” she suggested. “Who knows, maybe I’ll find love again?”

Donna laughed. “That, or you’ll at least have fun trying.” Her eyes blinked rapidly and she half spat out her own mouthful as she saw a familiar face on the silent television screen flickering ahead of them. She scrambled to find the remote control, leaning across Rose, swatting at the table and shoving a stack of unopened mail onto the floor.

Rose let up a yelp, and tried valiantly to hold her glass of wine high enough that it was spared the flailing of her friend. “Donna!”

“Sorry,” she breathed out as the remote was located and she used both hands to turn up the volume. “But. I have to hear….”

A very flatly delivered news report outlined the current breaking news item. The voice, which was far less enthusiastic than the footage from the scene deserved, spoke calmly of an industrial accident at Lazarus Laboratories. Zig zagging camera angles, the flash of blue and red lights, and finally a clear picture of a harried looking field reporter, trying his all not to sound too excited as he recalled the events so far.

Rose set her glass down on the table and leaned forward to listen to the cast. Donna, on the other hand was far more interested in monitoring the video feed. Her humming and sighing, and urging for the camera to move from the idiot talking head, took Rose’s focus off what was actually being relayed from the scene. She looked to Donna with a furrow in her brow.

“Are you okay?”

She hissed for silence, lifting her hand for more effect. Then in a moment she belched out a sound that was a mix between a laugh and a growl. “There!” She yelled out as she gestured urgently toward the screen. “Look at ‘im, Rose.”

Rose let her eyes shift to the screen, curious about what had her friend so worked up. “Look at who?”

“Him!” she said again with a flick of the remote toward a tall skinny man wearing a tuxedo, with Chuck Taylor Converse shoes. His hair was teased and up on end, and his face set in a wild, manic expression. “I know him!” She called out excitedly.

It didn’t take long for Rose to find him. She knew that run, that hair, and that expression very well. When his eyes shifted to look directly into the camera, she felt her breath catch.

“He’s called the Doctor,” Donna continued excitedly. “A strange bloke that I knew would end up on the news sooner of later.” She let up a laugh. “Can’t believe someone I know made it on telly!”

Rose slowly shifted her head to look upon Donna with worry in her eyes. “H-How do you know him?”

“Well,” she drawled with a roll in her eyes. “I don’t really _know_ him, know him like we’re best mates or anything like that.” She shrugged. “He got me out of a jam one day. Remember when I was supposed to get married?”

Rose nodded. “When we both ended up drunk in my back porch singing cheesy breakup songs?”

“That’s the one.” She huffed out. “Turns out Lance had been lacing my coffee each day with some nasty chemical stuff. This guy,” she gestured toward the TV with her chin. “He saved my life, didn’t he? A regular old Spaceman Sherlock Holmes. Skinny streak of nothing, mind, but…”

“But a hero nonetheless,” Rose said with a sigh. She looked back toward the television, hoping for another glimpse. That glimpse came of him, her Pinstriped Doctor, running hand in hand with a very attractive woman.”

“Oh wow,” Donna remarked. “She’s gorgeous!”

“Yeah,” Rose agreed somewhat sadly. Watching the two of them share bright toothy smiles before running off screen hand in hand. “Stunning.”

“I’m glad he found someone,” Donna mused as she turned down the volume and chucked the remote onto the armchair. “I told him he should, and I’m glad he listened.”

Rose nodded, but said nothing.

“When I met him, Rose, oh you should have seen him,” Donna continued. “He was like a kicked puppy.” She let one side of her face pull up into a wince. “Well, not that I can blame him and all. Poor bloke just lost his girlfriend.”

Rose tilted her head toward Donna. “I’m sorry?”

She nodded and drew back on the wine, purring at the tingle in the muscles that just a teeny bit too much offered her. “When we met, he was a wreck, and I’m talking Titanic proportions kind’ve wreck. He’d lost this girl, Rose…” She chuckled. “Like you…”

“It’s a common enough name,” Rose sighed with a shrug, not willing to admit they were one in the same.

“Anyway,” Donna went on. “Turns out, the poor man had been searching for her for a month. Out in the desert, on his hands and knees, searching for the woman he loves. Do you believe that, a whole month? Didn’t give up, although the best of us would.” She let out a breath. “He was in love with her; with his Rose.”

“H-he said that?”

Donna nodded. “Yeah, but even if he didn’t say it out loud, it was pretty obvious. That man was absolutely destroyed. Didn’t half try to kill himself that day, too.”

Rose flashed a look of concern toward Donna, but remained silent.

“At the end of it, though, he didn’t. I think I talked him out of it well enough. Told him to go find someone new, because quite frankly that man,” she tipped her glass to the TV, which now had no sign of the Time Lord on it. “He needs someone to stop him.”

“Yeah,” Rose breathed out. “Sometimes.”

“And it looks like he found himself someone.” There was disappointment in her tone. “Shame.”

Rose’s eyes pinched, territorialism only a breath away. “Why? You fancy him for yourself?”

Donna looked at her with an expression of almost disgust. She held that expression and then suddenly burst into brilliant laughter. “Oh hell no, Rose. That skinny little hedgehog is as far on the opposite spectrum of what I go after, it’s not funny.” She frowned. “Well. It _is_ funny, I guess.” She shook her head. “But no, not my type. I won’t deny that he’s got a lot to offer a girl in terms of travel and excitement, but as for something long term and romantic?” She shook her head. “I’d break that skinny body in half just thinkin’ about it.”

Rose curled a fist underneat her chin and turned her head toward the TV in hope that she may catch his image again. Unfortunately, the breaking news interruption was over, and the channel had switched back to a Coronation Street episode rerun.

“I would like to see him again,” Donna admitted.

Rose blinked and looked back to her.

“I got bit by the bug,” she admitted. “Saw what else exists outside of temping, chips, beans, and telly.” She sighed. “He asked me to go with him for a while, and see what was out there.”

“You said no,” Rose breathed out with understanding, remembering when she, too, had declined the offer to travel. “And immediately regretted it.”

“Yeah,” Donna answered with a sigh. “And I’d honestly, really … if I got that chance again. I wouldn’t say no.” She pulled her hair behind her ear. “Wouldn’t think on it twice.”

“Get rid of the humdrum existence of old Chiswick,” Rose managed with faked enthusiasm.

“Don’t’ I know it,” she groused.

Rose straightened up. She slowly lifted to her feet and stooped to pick up the now empty bottle of wine. She held it up and gave it a light shake. “I’m going to grab another one. Feel like sticking around for a bit?”

“Could be arranged,” she said with a cheeky smile. 

“Good,” Rose said with a smile. “No more talk of Doctors and the women he picks up along his way.” She gave her a wink. “You still need to tell me all about Egypt.”


	27. Classic Team TARDIS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Leela head out to Askola

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one today... This was a thinker and needed a wee bit of research to see where I had room to play... t's also been a long time since I've written anything that's - you know - mission-type-stuff. Once upon a time I was good at that, these days not so much so. 
> 
> But anyhoo, here's a wee bit with the Doctor and Leela -- who really was one of my favourite companions as a youngster. Romana was always number 1, Leela came in second.... 
> 
> I truly hope you enjoy.

~~oooOOOooo~~

Long yellow grasses met their boots as the Doctor and Leela stepped through the doors of his TARDIS. The trip had been mercifully short, and magnificently accurate; spanning only a couple of short minutes. The Doctor sincerely hoped that the rest of this trip would be so short. He hated to leave his wife and newborn in the hospital only hours after the little one had come into the world, but he agreed with Braxiatel and Romana – this had to be done, and sooner rather than later.

Rose hadn’t been happy with it. She started crying. She made him promise that he would be safe – and then she had him take a long and hard look at the both of them - his exhausted, yet beautiful wife, and his tiny little newborn son sucking hungrily at her breast – and made him promise that this would be the image that would bring him home to them.

Rassilon, it almost made him say to hell with the Daleks and just stay with the two of them. All he could do was to kiss his wife with all the passion he could muster, and then drop a kiss to his son’s fluffy little head, and then he was off.

Leela showed up at his home nearly two hours before suns-up, and they took off almost immediately.

Bless that woman. Some called her a savage, a bullheaded woman with a complete lack of filter between her brain and her mouth, one who would slice first, ask questions later. He called her a friend – and she was a surprisingly compassionate one at that.

When his boots pressed into the grass, and he made his way into the orange sunlight in the centre of a lavender sky, Leela stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“If you wish to wait in the TARDIS,” she offered in a firm, but friendly tone. “Then I understand. You have a family to return to…”

“As do you, Leela,” he answered her with a smile and a pat on her hand. “Which means that the both of us have to be careful.”

Leela released his arm and gave him a nod. “I have your back, as you have mine,” she vowed. “And we return home to our families.”

The Doctor smirked. “May as well just leave now.”

Leela winced just slightly and nodded. “Daleks,” she breathed out with loathing. “And a lot of them, I hear.” She touched at a holder on the hip of her tight, black, trousers. “Yet they send in only two of us.”

“After an entire battlefleet were defeated,” he muttered darkly. “Rassilon help us all if the Daleks actually do make it to Gallifrey. We are sorely underprepared for them.”

“I’ve been asked to assist in training,” Leela advised him in a voice that asked for his approval. “When we return.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” he agreed with a firm nod of his head. “Not only do you already have previous experience, but after today, we should gain a greater insight into just what we’re looking at, and what will be the best methods of defending ourselves.” He thrust his hands into his pockets as he walked forward through the tall orange-barked trees that loomed high above them. “Trying to go one-on-one with them won’t work.”

“It has done in the past,” Leela offered with a sniff. “In fact, between us both, it was a highly successful method the last time we faced them.”

They broke through the treeline to arrive at a fenced border of what appeared to be a paddock. The Doctor abruptly turned left to follow the fence. “That was when we faced only a small number of them,” he corrected her. “My understanding is that we’re facing roughly two thousand of them this time – with the potential of larger battle fleets in the future. One-by-one is not an option.” He cleared his throat and winced at the smell of animal manure in the air. “Bullshit,” he mused darkly. “How very appropriate.”

Leela chuckled in response and looked over the orange wooden fence beside them. Within the yellow grasses of the paddock were several stone-statues of what looked to be cattle. Each one was down on its belly, it’s front legs curled underneath the thick rolls at its chest. The back legs were both curled to the side, giving the impression that the animal lay on it’s hip.

It seemed a very odd piece of artwork to have created, and a waste of perfectly good farm space. She was of the mind to mention it but was startled into a surprised yelp when the ear of one of the statues flicked away a buzzing insect.

The Doctor immediately stopped, his mind filled with concern. “Leela?”

She blinked with surprise and pointed toward the statue, that was now perfectly still. “That just moved.”

The Doctor followed the point of her finger with his eyes. He saw the beast and nodded. “Of course it did, Leela. What did you expect it to do?”

“I really don’t know,” she admitted quietly. “They looked like statues to me.”

His brows furrowed and he looked across the paddock with a somewhat perplexed expression. “What on Gallifrey would be the purpose of putting statues out in the middle of perfectly good farming land?” He looked to her and shook his head. “You Humans,” he mused. “There are times I wonder how I understand you at all. Statues of Phlegmarian statues indeed. It would be as pointless as statues of cattle on your home planet.” His eyes flashed. “By that I mean the planet on which your people came from.”

“No, I understood your point,’ she sighed heavily. “But you have to see mine as well. They look like they’re made of metal.”

“They’re actually an aggregate of Phlarian and Ferroi,” he corrected her. “Living rock, I suppose you could say. They have a brain and moving parts much like you and I, but no working circulatory system or blood flow.” He started them moving again. “Askolians use them only to plough their fields. They’re really not that good for anything else.”

“Not for eating?”

He let out a laugh. “Mouth full of dirt, really.”

Leela nodded and walked up beside the Doctor, switching attention between watching him, and looking at the landscape around them. “Askola,” she breathed out curiously. “For what reason do you think the Dalaks are setting themselves up here?”

The Doctor kept his eyes straight ahead of them. “Peaceful planet,’ he answered. “No armies, and therefore no chance of them defending themselves.”

“Which means no one will notice,” Leela deduced. “And so they can build their troops quietly.”

“Taking stock from the peoples here, as well,” the Doctor added gravely. “If what we’ve learned from Rose is anything to go by.”

She looked worried. “And what’s that?”

He let out a breath. “Rose mentioned a run-in with the Emperor of the Daleks, and how during that period he was building his army using human DNA.” His lips pursed a moment. “Makes sense that the Daleks were tinkering with that kind of genetic modification of non-Kaled species. Skaro is not exactly a fertile planet capable of rapid reproduction of new specimens. Test -tube reproduction is limited at best…”

“Yet, they do seem to be able to reproduce efficiently enough,” Leela offered with a shrug and a look of disgust.

“Efficiently perhaps,” The Doctor agreed, “but not necessarily at a speed conducive to building an army big enough to take on the universe.” He blew out a breath. “At least I hope not.”

They came to a junction, a corner of the paddock, that ended on a small hill overlooking an encampment in the gully below. It wasn’t steep, nor very high, and therefore wouldn’t be dangerous to traverse downward, but it did give them both a decent view. The Doctor stood in a lean against a tree trunk, his legs crossed at the ankles. Leela dropped into a high crouch at his side, her hand pressed against the tree trunk to keep her steady.

“Looks fairly quiet,’ she offered gently. Her head shifted as she took detail in her mind of everything down below. “But I know that can be deceiving.”

“Askolians are known for being busy,” the Doctor offered. “They believe that leisure leads to stagnancy, which is the pathway toward demise.” He blinked and gestured below with a jut of his chin. “Which means what you’re seeing down there is not simply _quiet_ , it means …”

“It means either they are prisoners, or they are all dead,” Leela said with a gasp. Her grasp on her holster tightened. “And Daleks don’t take prisoners.”

“In this particular case,” the Doctor offered quickly before Leela tore off down the hill to take no prisoners of her own. “I believe they had no choice but to take visitors.” He lowered himself into a crouch at her side and pointed toward a trio of capsules at the edge of the small town. “Romana had ordered those units sent here from Gallifrey at the same time as the Battle capsules.”

“What are they?” she half whispered.

“Genesis Arks,” he answered on a quiet voice. “Emergency evacuation units. They were designed for use in the event that a natural disaster or war-time event required a fast evacuation of civilians.” He let his eyes scan along the outskirts of the town below, his eyes on the lookout for Daleks. “Despite the small stature of it, each capsule can hold millions of people.”

“A bit like the TARDIS,” Leela offered. “Bigger on the inside.”

He smiled and gave her a nod, still looking down the embankment. “Bigger than my TARDIS,” he admitted. “Much, much bigger.” His eyes pinched at the sight of a small troop of Daleks, riding in perfect formation, three by four, down along a main road toward the town. “We need to find a way to get to those Ark’s and set their transportation protocols to send them to Ferrouim.” He tapped his fingertip against his chin. “Which may be an easier task than what to do about the Daleks.”

“These Arks,” Leela interrupted curiously, her eyes locked on the path of the Dalek troop. “Can they also be used as Prisoner ships?”

He didn’t look at her, but a smile spread across his face at her suggestion. “Why my dear Leela, that is a _very_ good suggestion.”

“Well of course it is,” she sang back in a breathy voice with a sassy glint in her eye to match. “I came up with it, didn’t I?”

“The tricky thing is,” he said with a tilt in his head. “Is just how we are going to convince an entire battlefleet of Daleks to go inside the thing.”

Her mouth fell open into an “ahhh” expression. “Well that one I’ll leave to you, Doctor,” she offered. “I came up with one part of the plan, you can do the rest.”

“First things first, though,” he gruffed at the same time he drew himself to a stand. “We need to get into one of the Dalek ships and find out just what bit of nefarious no-goodery they’re planning.” He flicked his hand to her I a request for her to follow. “We can lock up as many as they’ve got down here. But it won’t do us much good if we don’t know why they’re here in the first place.”

Leela caught up beside him as he walked briskly down the hill. “To _Exterminate_ things,” she offered him. “They don’t do much else than that.”

“True,” he sang out.

The than gasped as he pulled her quickly behind a tree and held her firmly against his chest. He pressed his finger to his lips to demand silence, which she agreed to with a nod. On the road beside them, with the familiar metallic whine of Dalek wheels, a smaller troop rolled by. Leela remained protectively within the Doctor’s arms, but pulled her head back enough that she was able to see what he couldn’t. She made the count in her mind, and then looked up at him and mouthed the number. He gave her a nod of thanks and held his head against the tree as the danger passed. When he was confident that they were clear, he took Leela’s hand and rand them both in the opposite direction to the Daleks.

“Where are we going?” she hissed quietly. “The Daleks are heading the other way!”

“They’re patrol troops,” he answered quickly, his voice still held low. “Moving away from the ships. We want to _find_ the ships…”

“I’d actually like to kill a few Daleks first if you wouldn’t mind.” She smirked. “Make them talk?”

“How do you expect them to talk if they’re dead,” he retorted with a huff. “Did you bring a Ouija Board with you?”

She didn’t let go of his hands, nor try to pull him to a stop, but she did certainly give him a good and sharp glare of annoyance. “I’ll settle with killing you if you’d prefer.”

“Ahh, because there’s no way that regeneration energy will alert them to our presence at all, is there?” He pulled harder on her hand as he put on a little more speed. “You’ll get your chance, Leela. Just have some patience.”

“A virtue, as you say, I was not born with.”

“But a good one to strive to achieve,” the Doctor muttered as he threw his back up against another tree and held onto his breath. This time there were only four Daleks, but they rolled swiftly along the dirt road. He clutched at Leela’s hand tightly, preventing her from advancing on the robots is the urge took her. His voice fell to a whisper as he pulled her toward him and spoke in her ear.

“We’re getting close,” he warned. “Stay close to me and don’t wander off.”

“I like how you say that and actually expect me to listen,” she whispered sharply in reply. “I don’t need your protection, Doctor. I _can_ handle myself well enough.”

“I’ve no doubt on that,” he answered flatly as he peered across the space between their tree and the entrance to a Dalek ship. Knowing there’d be cameras at the entrance which would pick them up quickly, he removed his Sonic Screwdriver from his pocket and twisted the head to change a setting on it. “Cameras,” he advised her before she could ask. “While I am quite photogenic in this incarnation, I’d much prefer that my face did not end up on the Skaro Society pages.”

Her brow pinched in confusion. “I don’t understand…”

“Rose would,” he said with a sigh. “She’d laugh about it, too. Probably ask me for my autograph.” He moved out from behind the trunk of the tree and held his sonic at the tip of his fingers at the end of a fully extended arm. “I don’t really want either of us caught on camera, Leela, so…” He pressed the button and let the sonic screwdriver fire an invisible bean of energy toward the camera. It took a moment, but after a few seconds, the camera box gave a small spark. The Doctor hoped that was a sign that the camera was now inactive.

“Come on,” he called to her as his hand found hers again and he ran them both to the door. “It won’t take them long to come and investigate.”

He looked left and then right but didn’t stop as he ran across the small country road toward the Dalek ship. He barely looked up the ramp that would take him into the ship itself, such was his hurry. When he got to the entrance, he finally did stop, and that was only to press himself up against the metal hull of the ship to peer inside.

“We’re clear,” he muttered quietly, tugging on her hand to have her follow him.

Leela quickly shook off his hand and wiped it on her shirt as she took up position at his side. “I really don’t need my hand held,” she remarked. “I’d much rather have it free, just in case.”

“Habit,’ he admitted with a sigh. “My apology.”

“None needed.” She ran her hand along the smooth walls of the ship, coloured orange by the lighting from the roof. She listened to the deep hum of life support power and found herself starting to hum along with it. “Do you know where you’re going?” she queried after a moment.

“I believe so,” he responded in a voice not quite so confident. “This ship does have a very similar design to the one that landed on Gallifrey a couple of months ago…”

“One did what?” she chipped out with shock, halting their walk immediately. “Did you say the Daleks made it to Gallifrey?”

He winced. He’d forgotten that the knowledge of Dalek arrival had been extremely limited in who it was shared with – he would have thought that Andred would have shared that information with Leela. He’d certainly share it with Rose over a slice of Magnolia pie.

“It was an empty ship,” he lied with a smile. “So no need to announce it across the planet.”

“Empty?” she queried with surprise. “That is very strange.”

“It is,” he agreed. He then let out a breath. “So that said, we were able to investigate and analyse the warcraft.”

“Then I would expect you’d have a plan to defeat it,” she challenged him. “Afterall, isn’t that the purpose of commandeering enemy craft?”

He sighed. “You would think so.” 

His arm suddenly snapped out to stop her forward movement. He hissed for quiet and they both held their breaths as a pair of Daleks rolled along the corridor. The Daleks stopped their forward roll, and turned slowly around. The Doctor immediately grabbed Leela’s wrist and dragged her backward. Behind him was a door, and he quickly opened it to push her inside. He apologised as he followed her inside, fully expecting to be in very cramped quarters with her in a janitor closet or something.

He was surprised, however, to find that the both of them had entered a more expansive room. Empty except for a golden metal box in the middle of the room. While he knew he should be watching the door, waiting for the best opportunity to let them both out, the Doctor couldn’t quite help but be drawn toward the box.

“Doctor,” Leela hissed out with impatience as he left her side to investigate. “This is not the time for you to get distracted.”

He held up a hand. “Just a minute, Leela.”

“I don’t really think we have that long.”

His approach to the box was slow, deliberate, and very wary. Markings along one side were in the delicate swirling script of his people, and the warning it offered was dire. He circled it once, and then circled back in the opposite direction. As he read the circular-formed text on all sides, his dread grew.

“It can’t be,” he muttered with fear. “I thought this was locked away safely in Omega’s Arsenal.”

Leela was far less careful and approached the box without hesitation or care. She quickly dropped into a crouch at its side and reached out a hand to touch it.

He grabbed her arm tightly enough that she winced. “Don’t touch it,” he growled in warning. “Whatever you do, don’t touch it.”

She jerked her arm free of his grasp and made a point of rubbing it. “What is it?” she asked, knowing better than to get sassy on him when he was in this kind of mood – suddenly dark and stormy.

“It was originally called the Eye of Discord,” he answered on a low and angry voice. “The final, and most dangerous, creation of the Ancients.”

“A weapon?” she asked softly.

He nodded in reply. “Capable of destroying entire galaxies inside a single moment,” His brows lifted and but his eyes remained low. “Which is what brought about its alternate name: The moment.”

She gasped and looked at the small and indistinct box. “But it looks so harmless.”

“So does an Atom Bomb before it goes nuclear,” he muttered. He walked around the box again. “The Ancients made a mistake when they created this,” he lectured gently. “The made it too intricate, with an interface so sophisticated and advanced that it became sentient – a living entity with a conscience.” He blew out a breath. “It became judgmental, reading the intentions of its host, and passing judgment and imposing punishment on anyone who dared use it.”

Leela looked a the box and then back to the Doctor. “Fables,” she declared, ignoring the look of annoyance from her companion. “My people, back in the colony, they would tell stories like this. Stories to scare the children and force them to behave. Tales of triumph to make us warriors, and of defeat to make sure we won.”

She reached out a hand to touch it again, but the Doctor quickly snatched her wrist tightly in his hand. “I said don’t touch it.”

“And what will happen if I do, Doctor?” she asked hotly.

“It will read your mind’s greatest desire,” he warned her. “And it will punish you for having such desires.”

“And what is my desire, Doctor?” she asked him with a curl in her lip.

“The same as mine is right now,” he answered coolly. “To defeat every Dalek on this planet and return to the ones we love.”

“And you think that’s worth punishment?”

He nodded, his eyes tight on hers, not shifting. “Yeah,” he huffed. “It is. Oh, not in our minds, of course. To us it means victory for the greater good.”

“Because it is,” she snarled into his face. “Because the creatures out there…” She pointed to the doorway. “They kill without remorse and without reason. They’ll exterminate entire species just because they don’t think they’re up to their standards – that they are a lower life form than they are.”

He snorted. “And _your_ people,” he asked. “You’d kill entire insect species with the very same belief.”

She pulled her arm from his grasp and shook it. “That’s different.”

“How?” he asked. “To the Daleks, that’s what we are, what your people are, and what every other species across the universe is: Insects.” He flicked his eyes to the weapon. “And that’s how this thing will judge you.”

She stood back, holding at her wrist and digesting his words. 

“It will do what you want it to do, Leela,” he continued. His eyes shifted from the weapon to her. “It won’t hesitate to do it. Inside a moment, just a short insignificant point in time. A blink. A breath. It will erase the Daleks, turn them into dust.” He looked at her. “But at what cost?”

Leela took a step back, holding her wrist in her hand up against her chest, fear now written in her shoulders. “And the Daleks have it?” She blinked and looked back to him. “How have they not simply destroyed the entire universe with it?”

“You need a soul and the ability to truly feel loss in order to wield this weapon,” he answered. “Of which the Daleks have none.” He huffed. “Which makes me really sorry to say this, Leela, but this place…” He looked around, opening his arms to display the area around him. “Is probably the safest place in the universe to be.”

“Unless the Daleks can figure out how to use it – or ally with a species who can.”

He nodded. “True, which is why we need to find a way to get this back to Gallifrey, into the Omega Arsenal, and away from any war mongering species – soulless or not.”

“But if we can’t touch it,” she queried, “how do you think we’re going to move it?”

“That,’ he admitted with a scratch of his head. “That’s the dilemma.”

There was a hiss at the door, a sound that had both Leela and the Doctor jump back with fright. Leela maintained her balance, however, the Doctor was not quite so fortunate. He toppled backward, falling onto his back and involuntarily flailing his arms to try and find purchase. His hand swatted at the box, slapping his full palm on the golden surface.

His eyes widened as it whirred, clicked. Each of the intricate circles lit up brightly. “Oh, Rassilon no.”

“Tsk tsk, Doctor,” a soft and amused voice chided gently from above. 

“No,” he growled out as he covered his ears as though blocking out his mind. “Get out of my head, I don’t want anything from you.”

“Not yet,” the voice sang softly. “But you will. And when you do…”

A chorus of children’s voices sang joyously throughout the room. They sang a song from long ago, a song from the early ages of Earth, a song sung by children holding hands and dancing in a circle. The words spun around him.

_Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf……?_


	28. Two Doctors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight Meets Ten...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fully rewritten as it was pointed out that I severely messed up the actual relationship dynamic between Martha and the Doctor.
> 
> I hope this comes across much better than the first run at it. A big thanks to FaerieRose84 for taking the time to point out my error and giving me greater insight into the relationship (and timeline)... this is after 42, and right before Human Nature in their timeline.
> 
> Thanks as always for your comments!!

~~oooOOOooo~~

The swirling child-like song and the lights from the box quickly faded out into nothing. There was a whir, a click, the sounds of shifting time, and then silence – save for the rapid beating of both of his hearts against his rib cage. The Doctor, still down on the ground and on his rear, looked around himself in a frantic search for the children – so many children – who had been taunting him only a moment ago.

A voice that he expected should have been in Leela’s dulcet tones but was in a much more masculine breath filtered in from the doorway.

“I’m sorry, but did you just say _Bad Wolf_?”

The Doctor looked up quickly, his mouth agape, toward the door. His breath drew in hard when he caught sight of a man slightly within a shadow, dressed in a brown pin-striped suit only half visible underneath a thick camel-coloured jacket. He had dirty Converse Chuck Taylor shoes on his feet, and a thick mop of brown hair spiked to within an inch of its life on his head. The expression on his face was a mix between surprise and utter heartbreak – with his nose scrunched up to lift a lip that revealed a set of white teeth perfect to speak through, but eyes that held several lifetimes of heartache.

Quite obvious who this fellow was.

“Hello, Doctor,” he muttered dispassionately as he moaned and hauled himself up to his feet.

The Doctor standing at the doorway didn’t return the greeting. Instead he stepped out of the shadow and approached without fear. His shoulders were hunched, and his gait purposeful. “I asked you a question,” he growled. “Did you just say: Bad Wolf?”

Eight brushed himself off: a flick at his shoulder, then his sleeve, and then a tug at his cuff. He levelled out his shoudlers and looked toward his elder self. “It wasn’t me that said it,” he answered tiredly. “Not that it was actually said, mind, more like sang – by a group of school children.”

“Yeah,” Ten breathed out with a look off to the side. “That’s what I was worried about.”

Eight tried his best to appear nonchalant, although his hearts drummed a rapid beat of worry inside his chest. “And why would that be worrying, Doctor?” He queried disinterestedly. “Are you afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?”

Ten’s eyes flicked almost angrily toward his younger self. “No,” he breathed out. He then looked away. His voice was soft when he answered. “No, I’m not. Not anymore anyway.”

Eight did catch the sad faraway look that settled in his eyes before those eyes shifted. “I see.” He folded his arms across his chest. Time to change subjects. “And to what do I owe the honour – or more appropriately _dishonour_ \- of your visit?”

Ten scratched at his sideburn. A curl of unknowing lifted his entire top lip to show a full set of white teeth. “Yeah. Not quite sure about that, to be honest. Normally us being thrown together is because of some grand Time Lord design..” He let out a breath and spoke in a rather strangled voice. “And being that. _Well_. Not too sure they’d come for me in my current timeline.” He blew out a breath and rocked back onto his heels as his hands found their way into his trouser pockets. “Which means that we have to lay blame on the TARDIS, who really does seem to be playing games with me of late. Either that, or she has a thing for space ship. Just left a rather intense situation on another ship, actually.” His eyes widened with remembrance and he blew out a breath through puckered lips. “Not one I wish to revisit again any time soon.”

“You’ve obviously managed to upset the old girl,” Eight mused with a smirk. “Or she thinks that you need to be here, for some reason she won’t share.”

“Obviously,” he muttered in agreement. He flicked his eyes to those still questioning him from his younger self. 

“But I expect that you already know,” Eight offered him flatly. He circled his wrist in the air. “And as we have been here before – well, _you_ have…”

“You expect me to know,” Ten breathed out. He then shook his head. “No idea, I’m afraid. Probably due to timelines being out of synch, can’t quite remember this particular journey.”

Eight’s brows rose high. “No?”

Ten closed his eyes and scrunched up his face, no doubt trying to exaggerate the effort of trying to think for his younger self’s benefit. His face relaxed and he shrugged. “Nope. Not a second of it. Nada. Nyet… and all other words toward the negative.”

“Well that is disappointing,” Eight said with a sigh. “I was rather hoping that you being here meant that answers would be forthcoming quite quickly and we can be off again.” He rubbed at the tiredness in his neck. “Shame, really. I did have some plans for this evening that I would have appreciated being able to keep. As I have no doubt Leela did as well.”

Ten’s eyes widened. “Leela?” he asked with rising affection in his tone. He looked around and found his old companion looking toward him with surprise and not an ounce of recognition in her eyes. His face rapidly broke out into a grin. “Leela!” he cried out excitedly as he launched into a run toward her. He barely let the woman get out a peep of surprise before he had her in his arms and swung them both in a circle. “Oh, it’s been an age, hasn’t it?”

Catching Leela off guard perhaps wasn’t the greatest of the Doctor’s plans in life. Her peep, which shifted to a growl of threat, was a warning given only a half second before her arm flicked up and there was a blade at his throat.

“Who are you to be so familiar with me,” she thundered darkly. “Put me down before I slice open your throat.”

“I’d listen to her if I were you,” Eight warned with a roll in his eyes. “Being on a Dalek ship does tend to bring out the kill first-ask later mentality.”

Leela’s eyes were still dark and full of warning as the Tenth Doctor tried hard to calm her with only a look. “And I’d listen to him,” she cautioned.

The Tenth version of the Doctor gave a nod and set her feet on the ground. He held his hands up as high as his chest in surrender as he took a step back. “Yeah,” he drawled. “Sorry about that. I seem to have developed a hug first-ask later habit myself in this body.”

“So it would appear,” Eight muttered. He looked toward the doorway, where a young woman stood in wait. Her eyes were wide and curious, perhaps slightly frightened, but she didn’t appear to have any form of rising flight instinct in her posture. She was breathtaking to behold, really, a truly beautiful woman – typical of a companion chosen by any one of himself. He stepped forward with his hand outstretched in greeting. “Allow me to introduce myself,” he sang out with a smile.

For a brief moment the Tenth Doctor looked somewhat confused, but realisation suddenly dawned. Annoyance seemed to immediately flee from the face and posture of the man in brown. He broke out a wide smile and turned to hold his hand out toward the woman. “Oh yes. Right. Martha. I almost forgot that you were there.”

Her expression shifted to mild offence toward being forgotten about. She gave him a small smile and a shrug, but didn’t shift from her position. “Yes, well, you did seem otherwise occupied. It’s not exactly the first time.”

The Eighth Doctor frowned at his older self. “Do we make it a habit of forgetting about our companions, as we get older?” 

“I do it once,” he huffed. “And you call it a habit. I’ll have you know that my companions are now, as they always have been, my most important concern.”

Eight nodded. “Obviously. That’s especially clear given that your current companion is still standing alone at the door that could quite likely open any moment now and have her accosted by Daleks.”

He cleared his throat with discomfort, but schooled his features more toward glee when he turned back and held out his hand again to her. “Martha Jones,” he sang happily. “Come here and meet some friends of mine. _Well_. I say _friends_ , as in the plural form, but only one of them can actually be dropped into the category of actual friendship. The other, well. The other’s more of an annoyance, a reminder of time long passed.”

Martha stepped forward as requested but didn’t slip her hand into the waiting hand of the Doctor. She instead smoothed her hands over her hair with the other hand in an effort to make herself more presentable and gave the Eighth Doctor a smile. “Hello. I’m Martha. Companion of this rather rude individual.”

“Oi!” Ten blurted with offence.

She flashed him a brilliant white smile. “Deny it, Doctor, I dare you.”

He pulled at his ear and dipped his head guiltily. “Yeah. Well. Don’t want to lie to you…”

Eight’s eyes flicked between the two, noting their comfortable jesting and their friendly smiles. “ _Just_ companions, then?” he asked curiously, not meaning to imply anything, but unfortunately doing just that.

Martha’s eyes flashed wide at the question. “Well. More than that, I suppose. We’ve been through a lot, the Doctor and I. So.” She gave him a smile. “ _Best_ friends, right?”

The Tenth Doctor nodded, a roll in his eyes suggesting that he was analysing both question and answer. “Somewhere between the two at the very least.” He then looked down to his companion. “Martha, allow me to introduce you to a very good friend of mine.” He gestured toward Leela, who was trying her very best to seem disinterested, although was picking at the nail of her middle finger with the tip of her knife to prove she was ready to use it. “Leela. We travelled together, oh, a very long time ago.” His smile was full of affection.

Leela’s eyes widened with surprise as the introductions with her Doctor had not yet been finalised. She looked toward the Eighth version of the man with a look of question as to whether or not to comment on that. After receiving a shake of his head that told her not to mind it, she stepped forward and held out her hand to the newcomer. “Pleasure.”

Martha smiled a friendly grin as she shook eagerly at Leela’s hand. “A pleasure it is.” Her head tilted down to one side. “Maybe later you and I can trade stories – or you can give me hints on how best to deal with him?”

Leela found slight amusement in that, and although she was not one to trade any form of story about her time with the Doctor, she did offer one small piece of advice. “I have found that the threat of castration at knifepoint works rather effectively.”

Eight let out a laugh. “My dear girl, of all the threats you ever levered in my direction when we travelled together, castration was not one of them.”

Her eyes flashed innocently. “It would be effective, though, no?”

“I’ve got regenerations left at my disposal,” he jested back with a wink. “If a decent regenerative coma won’t work to repair whatever damage you could inflict, a full blown regeneration would.” He shrugged. “So. No. Not really effective at all.”

Martha frowned, unable to keep up with the conversation. “Please forgive my ignorance here, but regeneration?” She looked toward her Doctor. “Is he an alien?”

“Well,” he drawled out long. His breath filled his cheeks and he spoke on a bluster. “On this planet, we’re all aliens.” He shrugged. “But I know what you’re asking – alien compared to _you_ – and yes. He is. Quite.” He looked to Leela. “She’s Human, like you. Ancestrally speaking, of course. I didn’t actually find her on Earth. 

“And where are you from, then?” she asked the Eighth Doctor directly. “And I’m very sorry, but I didn’t catch your name.”

“I’m from Gallifrey,” he answered with a look toward his older self. “Like him.”

Martha’s whole face lit up brilliantly. She looked between both men. “Another Time Lord? Oh, Doctor! That’s wonderful, another…”

“ _Same_ Time Lord, actually,” he interrupted before she could let slip anything of importance. He looked toward Martha, but jutted his chin toward Eight. “He. Is me.” His face tightened up. “Ohhh, about 200 years ago, give or take.”

“And how many in between?” Eight queried, completely ignoring Martha’s gasp of disbelief and surprise.

“On my third since you,” he answered quietly. He inhaled. “It’s been quite a couple of centuries.”

Martha was still horribly confused. “I-I don’t understand. How can the both of you be the same man?” She held up her hand before either man could answer. “I get the time travel bit. No need to bring that bit up.”

“I take it you haven’t mentioned regenerations to her yet?” the Eight Doctor murmured under his breath.

Ten lifted a hand to pull at his earlobe. “Well. No. Not as yet,” he admitted. “The topic has never quite come up.”

Martha lifted her head. “What topic?”

“Regeneration,” the Eighth Doctor answered her quickly. “The thirteen lives of a Time Lord of Gallifrey.”

Martha’s expression turned from curious to confused. “Thirteen lives?” She looked toward the man at her side. “What? Like a cat?”

The Tenth Doctor pursed his lips at the comparison. Part of him simply wanted to run with that very simplistic option. The other part figured that wouldn’t be quite the apt description of regeneration considering his younger self – who looked remarkably different to him now – was in the same room.

“Well,” he drawled with another pull at his ear. “When Time Lords, ehm…”

“When Time Lords face death,” Eight cut in with a roll in his eye. “We go through a process known as regeneration. In this process, every cell in our body is rewritten and changed. We become a new man in quite the literal way.” He pointed a finger toward his elder self. “Which makes the fact that he and I are the same person very understandable, don’t you think?”

Martha’s eyes widened. “I wouldn’t say _understandable_ ,” she corrected softly. Her face and eyes lifted to her Doctor. “Sow hen you imply that he is you…?”

“Not an implication,” Ten corrected. “Fact. This man with the questionable dress sense – and really? A Bronte fan were you in that incarnation?”

“Better than dressing like our brother,” Eight snapped back sharply. “Really, I should take a photograph and show him. I’m sure the old boy will be more than chuffed to see that we’ve finally dressed in a manner that he’d actually approve of.”

Ten held at the lapels of his jacket and held them outward. “Two piece, not three.” He kicked out his foot. “Runners, not shiny leather.”

“Close enough.” He looked toward Martha with a soft and friendly smile. “So if you’ve managed to keep up, I am indeed the Doctor – a previous version of the man you currently travel with.” He held out his hand. “If you don’t mind me remarking, it is a pleasure to _finally_ make introduction to you. Double the pleasure to meet someone as lovely as yourself.”

“Lovely as in appearance,” she came back with a smile as she stepped forward to take his hand in a friendly shake. “I’ll take that compliment, thank you, and then remind you with a wink that you don’t know me enough yet to make any assessments to who I am as a person.”

He dropped a light kiss to her knuckles, keeping his eyes on hers. “If you’re at my side, Martha, then I’m assured that you are brilliant.”

Leela was at his side in an instant. She very deliberately removed his hand from Martha’s, giving him a rather pointed look about as sharp as one of her knives. “Propriety,” she warned him. “Remember who waits for you on Gallifrey.”

Ten picked up that inference. “Oh?” he sang out. “And who might that be, then? And on Gallifrey?” His lips pursed out curiously. “Who would you leave behind?”

Eight fired him a glare, one that was full of indignance. “Yes, who would we leave, indeed?”

“Ahhhh,” he breathed out through an open mouth. “You appear to be making an accusation of sorts.” He shook his head. “Whichever one of us did whatever misdeed you want to assign blame to, just remember, it’s all of us doing it.”

“No,” he sighed inaudibly. “Just you.”

“Anyway,” the Tenth Doctor sang out with a clap of his hands that ended with him rubbing them together. “We’re here, on a Dalek ship, investigating just what they’re up to, and how to get rid of them.” He looked to his younger self. “Any ideas yet?”

Eight narrowed his eyes toward his younger self. “As you have obviously been through this scenario before, Doctor, I would expect the answers would come from you.”

Ten winced slightly and lifted a hand to rub at the back of his head. “Yeah. We already touched on that one. I don’t quite remember this bit,” he admitted with a chuckle. “Then again, it’s not like I was exceedingly good at remembering anything when I was you – great big memory gaps in my life as you. Still,” he blew out a breath. “Can’t have been too interesting, otherwise I might have.” He stepped away from Martha and walked toward Leela. “Take travelling again with you, for example. I don’t remember that, which is a shame as I hold very fond memories of our time together.”

Leela was obviously confused, but she took the compliment with a smile. “Everything I have is because of you, Doctor.”

A grin stretched wide. “Oh yes. A husband, a child. How is old Andred? Treating you and your child well, I hope.”

“He does.”

“Good,” he breathed out. “Good.” He looked back at his younger self, noting the irritated and somewhat offended expression of him. “Oh don’t be like that,” he dismissed with a flick of his hand. “You’ll get to be me and it won’t bother you in the slightest not to remember it all. Moving on as we always do.”

“Nice to know it’s so easy for you,” the Eighth Doctor answered on little more than a whisper. He shook off the offence and inhaled a deep and clearing breath. “So. You don’t remember _any part_ of life as me on Gallifrey, then? Nothing at all?”

“Nope,” he answered with a shrug and a pop of the P. He circled the room, looking at the walls, the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but at his younger self. “Not a second of it. Was in an interesting visit?” He turned sharply with a smile. “Oh, I got it! This is during the Lungbarrow incident, right?” He let out a laugh that was more of an exhale. “Not a particularly delightful moment in my life, but an important one. I remember _that_.”

Lungbarrow was almost a lifetime ago for him. “Yeah,” he lied in a drawl. “Something like that.”

“How is old Innocet?”

“Regenerated,” he answered. “Married to the house.”

“Good,” he answered absently. “Good to hear.” His eyes fell onto a dusty looking wooden box in the middle of the floor. It was of crude construction, each small slat seated offset against its partner to reveal emptiness within it. “That’s odd,” he remarked with a single brow lifted. He dropped into a crouch and aimed his blue-tipped sonic screwdriver at it.

“Don’t touch it!” Leela yelped out loud in warning.

He looked up at her, fixing a look at her as he poked at the box with the tip of his screwdriver. “It’s just a harmless crate,” he advised her flatly. “Nothing to be scared of.”

She shot a terrified look toward her own Doctor. She felt further dread to see the deeply defeated expression of him as he looked at the box himself. “Doctor…?”

“The danger appears to have passed, Leela,” he managed on a quiet and husky voice. “Right now, it’s just a wooden box.”

The Tenth Doctor looked up at his younger self. “Previous to now it wasn’t?” he rose up to his feet and looked down suspiciously at it. 

“It’s nothing for you to be concerned with,” he answered quietly. “And by all rights, it looks like…” He stopped and frowned toward his elder self. “Are you very certain you don’t remember? Not a single moment of this? You can’t remember a single thing from your life on Gallifrey?”

The Doctor gave a dark laugh. “It was hardly a _life_ ,” he countered. “There’s a reason we left, Doctor, or don’t you remember that?” He looked to him. “Nothing for us there back then.” He exhaled. “Certainly nothing for us now.”

“Our life together,” he clarified sadly, referring to Rose, but knowing that this new Doctor wouldn’t read it that way. “How can you not remember?”

“Our life,” he shot back with a derisive snort. “I remember enough, thank you. Not a single part of it worth retaining. And it certainly appears that this particular moment in your life is worth forgetting as well – seeing as I feel like I’m living this one for the first time, too.”

Martha looked between the two: One of them looking like he’d been kicked out into the snow with his hearts in his hands, the other steeled with indignance and annoyance at the questioning. She tilted her head at the younger Doctor. “Is there any reason why it’s so important to you that the Doctor should remember?”

Leela opened her mouth to answer that one in a firm and angry manner. The Doctor stopped her with a lift of his finger to request she say nothing.

“No reason,” he breathed out. “Obviously not one important to him.”

Ten flicked his eyes toward his younger self. The sadness in his posture could rival the sadness in his on any day. His voice softened to worry. “Something tells me that I’m missing something of very vital importance.”

“If you considered it such,” Eight murmured; his hearts falling into his stomach. “Then remembering it wouldn’t be such an obvious difficulty.”

The Tenth Doctor searched his memories of being his Eighth self. Nothing of real note stood out, and so he came to the only conclusion possible – that they were on the brink of war with the Daleks. Of course this would be important to him – so very important. Immediately he felt sorrow and sympathy toward his younger self, and the heatsache he was about to suffer.

“I can’t tell you what comes,” he advised him softly, a croak inside his voice. “And beyond this meeting, Doctor. What comes from here…” He looked around the room. “With the Daleks. This, I remember quite vividly, and will _never_ forget.”

His reply was made so quietly that no one heard anything other than incoherent murmuring. “Obviously we’re talking about very different things.”

“What was that?” his elder self asked with a hand cupped around his ear in a far too condescending manner. “You’ll have to speak up. Getting older, hearing’s going. You know how it is.”

“I said,” he retorted in a louder voice. “I don’t wish to know what lies ahead anyway. Perhaps if you used a little less hair gel, you’d be able to hear me.”

“Not that I see how Gel affects one’s hearing, Doctor,” he smoothed back. “However, I will note that you do seem quite uncharacteristically snippy today. I take it not all is okay?” 

“By Okay, you mean aside from bumping into myself – which never turns out well for anyone – and finding out that I’ve become some teased-hair pretty boy who has zero care and respect toward those who choose to travel with him. Who is clearly so far inside his own narcissism that he threw away the best thing to ever happen to him…”

Darkness crossed his features almost immediately. He rushed his younger self with a curl in his lip and a growl in his tone. He stopped short of grabbing his lapels and shaking him, but only because of a warning snort from Leela. “Just what do you mean by that?” he snarled. “I haven’t thrown anything away.”

“Haven’t you?” Eight asked coolly. “Think hard on that one a moment.” His eyes raked up and down with a glare of utter derision toward the man he would become. “You know what, never mind. Your loss is my gain…”

“Which will be your loss in time as well,” he shot back in reply. “Don’t you think for a second you’ve got what it takes to change your own future.” He moved in close with eyes narrowed in warning. “I was you once too, you know. Making the very same promises to myself.”

“How would you know?” he breathed out though a curled lip. “You can’t even remember.”

Leela let out a sigh of frustration. “When you two are finished comparing the size of your penises, may we get back on task and find out just why the Daleks have landed here, and how we will save the Askolians trapped in the Arks?”

The Tenth Doctor flicked a surprise look toward her. Aggression immediately fled toward curiosity. “I’m sorry, did you say that the Daleks have taken prisoners?”

Eight nodded. His voice was now somewhere closer to normal when he addressed his older self. “Gallifreyan forces have already tried to intervene. Romana sent in five battle capsules and three Genesis Ark capsules.” He exhaled. “Her intention was to hold back the Dalek fleet while evacuating as many of the Askolian peoples as possible for transportation to Ferrioum for sanctuary. Unfortunately, the forces were defeated before the Arks could be transported to safety.”

The Tenth Doctor pursed his lips and nodded his head slowly. “Was this something she discussed with us first? Or did she just go ahead and send in the troops.” He frowned. “I would expect that if she had any plans like this in mind, that she might reach out to us first.” 

“If we were contactable,” he countered quietly.

“Which I assume we are, considering you’re here now obviously at her request.”

“We were otherwise indisposed,” he answered. “Romana had the respect not to interrupt to ask questions that were pointless by comparison.” He walked around him toward the doorway that would take them back out into the corridor. “She’s also perfectly capable at dealing with these pepperpots of death – being the only person in the entire universe to have a Dalek beg mercy.”

“That is true,” he agreed with a smile. The smile fell. “And so once whatever shiny thing it was that distracted us was no longer a distraction, she came to us with the news that there had been a bit of a snafu, and could we help out?”

Leela gruffed. “The _shiny_ thing that you refer to, Doctor is…”

“Leela,” Eight growled with warning. “It’s not worth it, so just leave it. Please.” He touched the door with the palm of his hand. “We have _other_ shiny things to focus on right now.”

Leela made a sound in the negative. “Before you go wandering out there, don’t we have the important issue of the weapon to deal with?” She waited for his perplexed eyes to find hers and pointed toward the box. “This thing?”

“It’s a box,” the Tenth Doctor said slowly. “A wooden box. Completely benign and not anything near being any form of weapon.” He shrugged. “Well, unless you want to throw it at someone. Then it could be classed as such. Not a very effective one mind, but it could give someone splinters which could be uncomfortable.”

Eight offered his companion a smile. “The danger from whatever was in that box has passed, Leela. I promise you that.”

“I’m not entirely sure I believe you.”

“Do you trust me?”

She nodded. “I do.”

“Then trust me on this.” He flicked his head toward the door. “Now come on,” he said with a warm smile. “Let’s continue on the path we had originally set, and …. And hope we don’t get hit with a Dalek ray.”

His Tenth self stepped up beside him. He caught the younger self’s look of question out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t look at him. Instead he merely smirked. “It goes without saying that I’m coming along as well.”

“I was worried you might say that.”

“Two Doctors are better than one, after all.”

Eight rolled his eyes to the ceiling and actually let out a laugh. “The universe just quivered at the possibility.” The door hissed open and both men stepped forward into an empty corridor. Eight stopped his elder self with the back of his hand against his chest. “Doctor. For the love of Rassilon, don’t forget your companion.”


	29. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you really feel, Ten?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short one today as I spent much of my writing time rewriting the last chapter (hope you like the changes, as there are quite a few... and an additional 2,300 words in there as well)
> 
> Anywaaaaaay. Wanted to get this part of things over with, and I can't see that Eight wouldn't take a run at an opening as provided by Martha ... Soooo. If you don't like a Ten-Snap, then sorry. Me, personally? I love it when a Doctor breaks... 
> 
> Hope you like this chapter ... I really do....
> 
> Thanks as always for your comments.

~~oooOOOooo~~

Silence immediately befell all in the group as they left the relative safety of the small room and stepped into the corridor. The Two Doctors walked as a pair ahead of the two ladies, one of which was scrutinising their every surrounding, and the other analysing this new man – the younger Doctor – not being quite able to believe the tales they wove about Time Lords and regeneration…

…It made no sense.

They’r only been walking for less than a minute before the Doctors both waved a hand at the girls and then pressed their backs up against the wall. Eight was in the lead of the foursome, with his focus tight on whatever lay around the corner. His elder self was against the wall at this side, trying to lean across him for his own view, but was fighting against the annoyed swatting from the younger him. Martha shifted In beside her Doctor, her hips tucked in tightly against him. Leela, she was having none of being at the back of the group. She made her way to the front and crouched on the floor beside her Doctor.

“What is it?” she hissed out quietly through her teeth.

“Daleks,” Eight answered simply. “What else?”

There was a knife clutched I a dagger hold in her left hand, and her other hand tensed against the wall ready to press off. “Eye-Stalk, right?”

He looked down. “Don’t, Leela.”

“Isn’t that why we’re here? To defeat the Daleks and free the prisoners?”

Ten entered the conversation with a light huff. “Best we find out what, and how many of them, we are actually facing here,” he advised gently. “Taking one down might be easy enough, but if it alerts the rest of them…”

Leela gave a firm nod. “We will find a way, though, right?”

“What? For you to kill them?” Eight asked with amusement. “Of course. Even if it only means that we have to press a big red button to destroy them all, Leela, then I promise you I’ll let you press it.”

“I will hold you to that.”

“I am very sure that you will.” He sucked in his breath, pressed back against the wall, and signalled frantically for all of the companions to do the same. His hand had to fall upon Leela’s head to force her backward, but she complied readily enough when he did.

With a whir, a trio of Daleks rolled across the corridor past them. Eight kept his eyes on their retreating backs and only exhaled once they were out of sight. He twisted around to look toward the other end of the corridor and, seeing it clear, signalled for his team to follow.

Once again, the formation fell to the Doctor’s in the lead and the ladies at the rear.

“You seem to know exactly where you’re going,” Ten remarked quietly. “Which I find curious.”

“Let me guess, because you don’t remember?”

“Obviously,” he gruffed under his breath. “But moreso because I don’t ever recall entering a Dalek battleship at all through out lives until the invasion.”

“Which invasion might that be?” Eight asked curiously.

“Not my information to share with you right now,” he slid back quietly. “But it didn’t happen in your body if you’re looking for timelines.”

“This ship is identical to the one that crash landed on Gallifrey a little over two months ago…”

Ten grabbed his arm and stopped him short. “I’m sorry. Did you say that in this timeline the Daleks made it to Gallifrey. While you’re still you?”

“Yes,” he snarled as he pulled his arm from the grasp of his younger self. “And if you don’t mind, can we continue on?”

Ten gestured with a wave. “After you.” He let Eight pass him, and then stepped to his side. “They landed early,” he mused.

“Yes,” he replied. “That’s what she said as well before she destroyed every living thing on board it.” He shuddered. “Turned them all into dust. Every … single … one.”

“She?” Ten asked with a pucker in his lips and his eyes forward. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer to the question in his mind, although he was very sure he knew it. “Who is _she_?”

“The Bad Wolf,” he answered with only a slight flick in his eyes toward his younger self, looking at him through only his peripheral vision for a reaction. The reaction was minor, a blink if you miss it kind’ve thing, but it was there: a hardening in the eyes, and a clench of his jaw. “You’ve heard of her?”

“May have,” he whispered. “Although I doubt it’s the same Bad Wolf I encountered.”

“Why _not_ …?”

Martha’s voice piped up from behind them. Her voice was quiet, but the excitement in it was obvious. “I’ve been seeing those words a lot lately,” she admitted. “Everywhere we go…”

Ten spun in place, his eyes wide and wild. His turn stopped Martha abruptly enough that she had to lean backward from him. His voice was clipped and harsh. “What did you just say?”

“That I’ve seen the words,” she repeated with a frown of discomfort shadowing her features.

His eyes flicked between hers, their intensity unwavering. “Where?” he hissed out. “Where did you see them?”

She found herself backing up and away from him. There was a very discomforted look on her face that was almost fearful. “Doctor,” she warned him. “You’re scaring me.”

“I need to know, Martha,” he demanded. 

She began to cower just slightly against the spittle flying from his teeth, and that desperate manic look in his eyes. “Doctor, please.”

Eight took hold of his elder’s arm in a firm grasp that warned against any objections. He shook his head at him. “Stop, Doctor. You’re scaring her.” He caught the glare that had become legend across the universe since his last incarnation: The glare of the Oncoming Storm from Gallifrey. His breath hitched, but more in awe than of fear. “You won’t scare me,” he warned shortly. “Although nice try.”

He pulled at the Doctor, and then shoved him ahead of all of them. When he turned back to try and question her again, Eight clicked his tongue and pointed ahead of them. “Keep going…”

“You do know that I’m older than you, right?”

Eight rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t make you any wiser.”

Behind the two of them, Martha walked quietly. She held herself and rubbed at her arms. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I honestly never thought anything of it. Just a faery tale bad guy.” She sniffed. “I didn’t think it was important.”

“It’s very important,” Ten gruffed. “More than you can know. Bad Wolf… She… She…”

“She’s Rose,” Martha suggested flatly, not making her statement a question at all.

Three sets of eyes shifted to her, but she didn’t look at any of them. Instead she sighed and looked at the wall as she passed. “Not hard to figure out. The only time you get misty-eyed, contemplative, passionate, or _hell_ , even show any actual honest emotion is when it comes to her.” She finally looked at him. “You can’t even take me places that you didn’t take her, can you? All of the universe, Doctor, all the wonders of space and all the infinite possibilities – and you take me on a best-of Rose Tyler tour.” She slumped, pain in both posture and her eyes. “And I don’t even get to see the good parts of it. I get taken to the slums, don’t I?”

Ten’s eyes widened a moment, caught off guard by that. He didn’t stop walking, nor did he truly turn to face her. He did shift his head to one side full of apology. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” he admitted softly. So if you preferred that just took…”

“Finish that statement,” Eight growled hotly. “And I’ll _let_ Leela castrate you.”

“It would be a pleasure,” Leela said with a pleasant smile as she moved to position next to Martha. With a very awkward effort of one not quite used to comforting anyone that wasn’t a small child, she tenderly patted at Martha’s arm. “The Doctor is a complicated man,” she assured her. “All Time Lords are – especially when their _mate_ is concerned.”

“Rose was _not_ my mate,” Ten corrected.

“No, Doctor,” Martha corrected him. “She wasn’t. She was much more to you than just a _mate_.”

Leela looked first to the Time Lord with the scowl on his face, and then toward the one with sadness on his. “Doctor?”

Eight shook his head at her as they approached the doorway to the main communications deck. “Leela, would you mind please staying with Martha at the doorway on Patrol?” He tipped his head toward the Tenth version of himself. “He and I, we have some…” He rolled his eyes. “We’ll need some backup and warning in case any Daleks decide to roll on by.” He looked around them with a lift in his brow. “We’ve been kept mercifully free of them so far – I don’t anticipate this luck holding too much longer.”

She gave him a nod, even as she pulled a second knife from her holster to hand to Martha. “Here,” she said. “You may need this.”

Martha looked at the weapon with a single brow lifted high. “You think that’ll help?”

Eight padded behind his older self with a slouch set in his shoulders. Like the man in front of him, his hands were deep inside his trouser pockets, and his head hung low. As a pair, an almost identical one in terms of stride and posture, they approached a communications console. They stood either side of a divider, facing but not looking at each other.

“I’ll look through the transponder traffic, see what communications have moved between this group, and any that might be hovering off-planet,” Ten advised. “Best you take a look through the schematics, see if there’s a weakness we can exploit…”

“Tell me about Rose,” Eight interrupted.

“I’d much rather not,” Ten answered him with a lift of his chin to indicate he had a task to do himself. “Focus on what you’re _supposed_ to be doing.”

“I _am_ ,” Eight assured him without lifting his eyes. “I know what I have to do.”

“Good.”

He tapped at a keyboard, read through some lines of text that really told him nothing, and sniffed. “Tell me about her.”

Ten’s eyes lifted slowly. “I really don’t want to talk about her.”

Eight kept his eyes on the screen, but shifted his face in a gesture toward Martha. “Seems to me that you talk about her quite a lot. Enough that you’ve got a companion feeling not only envy toward the woman, but also making her feel as though she’s less important.”

“Martha is very important,” he corrected. “And once we are through here, I’ll make more of an effort to make her believe it.”

“You certainly seem to struggle with that, don’t you?” He queried curiously. “Making your companions feel unwanted, unsupported … un _loved_.”

He lifted his eyes angrily to his younger self. “Don’t pretend as though you have some great insight into who I am, and how I treat my companions, when you’ve only met one of them. Yes, I’ve got a few kinks to iron out in this incarnation.” He grunted. “But it’s hard to do when this body was created so very specifically for one person…”

“Born from love?” He queried with a tilted head.

Ten snorted out. “Yeah, but a fat lot of good it did for me, She’s gone now, and as usual, I’m left to go on. Alone. Like always.” He pointed at the Eighth Doctors console. “Now if your nosy self wouldn’t mind – get back on task.”

“So you _do_ love her,” Eight pressed on. “This Rose Tyler, was she more than just a friend as Martha suggested?”

“Will you leave it alone?” he hissed through his teeth. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not?”

Ten slapped both hands down on the console, hard enough to make all three of the other people in the room jump. “Because it hurts!” he growled loudly. Tears filed his rapidly reddening eyes. His words shifted to calm and quiet seething between his teeth. “Because Rose _should_ have been my mate. She became my saviour, my lover, and the sole reason that my hearts beat.”

Eight recited a Gallifreyan phrase to that effect.

“Yeah,” Ten breathed out. “That’s the one.”

“So what happened?” He queried. His eyes shifted to his sunken shoulders and then up to his eyes. It was obvious this was a man who was grieving. 

“I chased her away,” Ten admitted with a rueful smile of self hatred. “For some reason I can’t even begin to comprehend, I took her heart, I held it in my hand … and then I squeezed the love right out of it.” He sniffed and shrugged, looking back down at the screen. “So now she’s gone, with both of my hearts still firmly in her hands, and I’m here alone, trying to move on without her.” He lifted his eyes and gave his younger self a pained smile. “Isn’t that a _great_ future for you to look forward to, Doctor? Are you happy you asked?”

Eight didn’t say a word.

“It's really no wonder I don’t remember any part of this,” he said with a somewhat manic laugh. “Why the _Hell_ would I want to? Why would I _want_ to know that what I’m heading into is a hundred and fifty years of brutal war, then, when that’s all over, I finally meet the love of my lives, and then what? I spend an entire incarnation making incredible love with her. Then Kyoto." He breathed out a heavy grown. "Oh we made love for hours that night. I couldn't stop - I didn't _want_ to stop - If I died that night just like that, inside her, I'd have died happy. But then. _Well_ … less than a day later, we're taken hostage by the Daleks, and I regenerate. I regenerate and turn into me: The one who let her down, and worse, let her die. She not just gone, Doctor. She’s dead, and it’s all because of me: The man who was supposed to love her.” He slapped hard at a rolling ball tracker on the counter, and then opened his arms wide. Tears tracked down his cheeks. “So – _Spoilers_! Happy future timeline, Doctor. You’re _welcome_! Aren't you glad you asked?” 

There were several really quite very important things said inside the Doctor’s rant. Several things that his younger self really wanted to properly touch on and analyse for a long while maybe over a few glasses of wine and a slice or two of Rose’s Magnolia pie. However, one part of his rant stood out a little more than the rest …

“I’m sorry,” he started with a curious, and somewhat terrified expression. “One hundred and fifty years of _what_?”


	30. Aren't we Clever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're clever, these two boys...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friday post! Hope very much that you enjoy this one.... Some heavy discussion, and then some lighthearted bits...
> 
> And then we're rollin' rollin' rollin'
> 
> Thanks as always for your amazing comments. I love hearing from you all!
> 
> Enjoy, please!

~~oooOOOooo~~

The Tenth Doctor looked toward his younger self with an expression that held both pain and disbelief. He just poured his devastated hearts out about the lost love of his life, and this man was more interested in one hundred and fifty years of…

…Oh. Yes. Right. That would be a rather important item to seek clarity on. This man, this younger him, wasn’t in love with his precious Human woman. Rassilon, the man had never truly been in love, so it made sense that he could so easily gloss over that part of things – even if he did ask about her in the first place.

He made do with screwing up his face with annoyance as he shoved his grief back down into his gullet. “Forget I said that.”

Eight didn’t make eye contact with his elder self, instead he focused on the angle of a monitor and used a slap of his hand to shift it into a more desirable position for him. “Perhaps that’s why you don’t remember,” he remarked softly. “Because you give away too much…”

“That will change too much,” he finished with a nod, and he pulled his specatles from his pocket and slipped them onto his face. He leaned an elbow down onto the console in front of him and rested his chin on his fist as his right hand worked the controls. “Yeah” he little more than breathed out. “That’s it. Best if it’s forgotten.”

Silence fell with Ten focusing on the lines of communications, and Eight feigning his search of the schematics as his mind waded through a dozen questions formed from one simple little rant. With all of the potential scenarios of loss and heartache in his future, he saw at least one positive: That this man, this misguided fool who took his companion, his lover, for granted … He was as absolutely in love with Rose as he was right now.

…And her loss was destroying him.

He finally lifted his eyes to look at him. The spectacles did nothing to hide the redness in his eyes, or the tears marking his cheeks. The fact that he hadn’t even bothered to wipe them was telling, especially as he used the wrist of his sleeve to wipe at least his nose.

“She’s not dead,” Eight said finally. “Your Rose.”

Ten’s eyes flicked toward him, and it half killed Eight to see a complete lack of hope within them. “Just don’t,” he breathed out, not taking his chin from his fist. “She’s gone, Doctor. There’s nothing I can do to change that.” He looked back to his screen and let out a long breath. “Having a time machine means nothing when the time I need to go back to is locked.”

Interesting. He pressed both hands into the console and leaned down against straightened arms. “How do you mean?”

A light smile ticked up on one side of his mouth. “I’ve only encountered that once in all my lives,” he remarked with curiosity in his tone. “Where an entire time stream is locked to me. Oh, I’ve seen bits and pieces here and there that I can’t seem to get to. Mostly fixed points, of course, but some that are just .. locked.” He looked toward his younger self. “But until her – Rose – I’ve never seen an entire timeline locked in time.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

He shrugged. “I’m not even sure that I do.” He finally lifted up off his hand. He adopted the same straight-arm lean that the man across from him was in. “It wasn’t something I actually knew about at the time,” he suggested with a sigh. “It wasn’t something I thought I’d ever need to do, _really_. But after we lost her – after my month-long search to find any sign of her…”

“A month?” Eight asked with a pinch in his eye.

He nodded. “An entire month, day and night, searching searing hot desert sands and battling those damn Crandinian storms.” He sighed sadly. “Nothing. No sign of her at all.”

“I’m sorry.”

Ten actually smiled at that and looked down to his hands. “Yeah, you will be, Doctor. Trust me when I say that.” He blew out a breath. “Anyway. In between meeting Donna, and having to go tell Jackie that I’d lost her only child.” His eyes lifted. “Jackie’s her mother.”

“I surmised as such.”

“Anyway.” He breathed out again, heartsache for the memory setting a wince on his face. “I tried to go back. Tried to see how I could change it. If I just missed something and could find a gap in time where I can swoop in with the TARDIS and rescue her before she succumbed to the storm. His brows lifted without his eyes widening, his chest grew with a deep inhale, and he seemed as confused as he was distraught. “I couldn’t. That time was locked to me. So I looked back down along our time together, where she was without me for moments here and there, and still, locked. Then I looked back along her entire timeline, jut for curiosity’s sake … there isn’t a single moment that I have access to.”

“I. See,,,” Eight drawled out long and slow, his mind quite unable to wrap around that particular quandary. “Not any point at all?”

He shook his head. “Not a second of it.” He blew out through puckered lips. “Her time with us was truly a one-off thing.”

“There’s usually a reason for that,” Eight offered after a swallow. “Her importance to one thing, one very specific thing.” He paused. “One changed decision in her past could affect her ability to be in the right place at the right time…”

Ten snorted. “She’s dead, Doctor,” he shot back angrily. “What possible mystical purpose can she serve to the universe if she’s dead?”

“Perhaps her death is important to where _we_ need to end up?” he offered. “Her name being our strength to keep going.”

He shook his head. “Her death is making me careless,” he corrected him. “Half the time I don’t even _want_ to carry on, and that … _that_ .. makes me _very_ dangerous.” He let out a breath and looked to Eight with pain in his eyes. “I’m so tired of losing everything and everyone, Doctor. So very tired of it.”

Eight nodded. “So if I’m understanding you, rather than serving her name and the love we have for her with honour by finding strength to continue, we’re insulting her memory by giving up.” He gave an exaggerated sigh of disappointment. “Oh yes indeed, what I have to look forward to as you.”

“Nice to see your unparalleled ability to empathise and be understanding toward the suffering of others is still nicely intact.”

“Sarcasm truly is the lowest for of wit,” Eight sighed out with a shake in his head. “I’m just trying to give you reason when you’re obviously unable to find it.”

“I want _hope_ , not reason,” he argued softly. “Not reason. I’m done with reason. Reason can sod off.”

“I wish I could give you that,” he vowed honestly. “I truly wish I could.” His softness quickly shifted to indignance. “Because ending up like you – I’d rather not.”

“Little choice in it,” Ten breathed in reply. He then cleared his throat loudly. “But enough of that. Time to move on, am I right?” His brows rose high again, but this time his eyes widened with them. He blew out another breath, one of moving on, carrying on. “Like always.” He flicked his eyes back to Eight. “Anything there?”

He shook his head. He knew before they even started that he wasn’t going to get anything out of this investigation. Same craft two months ago … nothing then meant nothing now. “These ships are made to be unbreakable, Doctor. Only way to destroy it is to take it piece by piece.”

“Had a feeling you might say that.”

“You?”

He didn’t look up, instead continued to look at the monitor. “Unless you speak the Kaled – which I am fairly certain we don’t - then this isn’t much help, either.”

“Would it help if we could?” he asked. “I mean to speak Kaled?”

The Doctor snorted. “Well, I know for a fact that neither you nor I can speak fluent Kaled,” he groused in reply. “We can decipher bits and pieces where necessary, but not send out a message that would be in anyway believable. But yes, it would help immensely.” He looked up at him, business now the expression across his face. “If we could send a message to the outlying ships from this battalion stating that there is no further need for them to be skulking about around here, then we _can_ give ourselves some time to get rid of what’s already here, and fortify this planet and her neighbouring planets with forces from within this solar system.” He pressed his lips together for a second. “And perhaps some of the Kasterborean teams. From what I see here, they’re planning on using this as an outpost for something much, much bigger.”

He rubbed at his chin and looked through more streams of data, able to isolate and interpret large chunks of information to piece it all together. “If I know the Daleks, and I do, then they’re going to be setting up a network with each piece of it being vital to maintain their web of communications. Miss one piece of that…”

“Or have a way to intercept and manipulate anything outgoing from this outpost,” his younger self added with a growing smile. “Then we should be able to gain somewhat of an upper hand in knowing, and controlling some degree, what information is passed along from here.”

“That,” the Tenth Doctor drawled with a press of his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “Would certainly go a long way in helping out with today’s exercise, as well as putting a rather big dent in their plans going forward in the immediate future.”

“So it _could_ work then?”

“ _Could_?” Ten burst out with a laugh. “Doctor, if you have a way to be able to not only hijack this communication feed, have someone fluent in the language to not only interpret but be able to communicate in a manner exactly like the Dalek fleet, then yes. It wouldn’t only work, it would also give you the ability to hack into the Dalek casing and control their movements.” His eyes widened as he tipped a head to one side and blew out a breath through puckered lips. “Mind, the Daleks aren’t as dumb as we’d like to assume they are, and any interceptions of any of their systems would be noticed fairly quickly.”

“But not before we’ve been able to inflict as much damage as possible,” Eight said with a widening grin. He quickly moved around the console to join his younger self at the controls. He leaned down looked up at the monitor as his hands moved across the control panel. “If we can access their Voice Integrator, Projection System as well as their Space Telegraph unit, then we can route the system feeds toward the TARDIS’ Interstitial Antenna. Her Relational Information Systems can then be aligned with signals from Gallifrey, giving us almost complete control of this ship, it’s navigation, and it’s communication.” He stood up straight and slapped his palm on the console top. He looked to Ten with a grin. “Just like that.”

“Just like that,” Ten repeated with a matching smile. He held his hand up for a high-five, which was immediately slapped at hard, with a cheer to finish it off. “Brilliant!”. He purred out a deep and husky sound of self-pride. “Oh, we are clever, aren’t we?”

“Very much so.” Eight answered with a puff in his chest and a smile on his face. “Now,” he said with a clap of his hands. “We should get back to my TARDIS and make sure that her intercept of the Dalek transmissions is holding steady.” He looked at his older self. “Normally here is where I tell you to bugger off back into your own time, but I have a feeling that having you here is probably a good plan…”

“Just in case?” he ventured with a raised brow as he removed his glasses and tucked them into the breast pocket of his jacket. 

“Indeed,” he answered on a low voice. “Just in case.” His face brightened. “So to my TARDIS, then?”

“To your TARDIS,” he repeated. “Allonsy!”

Eight’s face screwed up. “Allon- _What_?”

“It’s French,” he said with a shrug. “Means…”

“I know what it means,” he said with a sigh. “I just can’t believe you said it.”

Both men turned to walk toward their respective companions, both eager to explain just what level of brilliance they had achieved thus far. Both of them stopped, however, when the women approached them. Martha held a Dalek eyestalk in both of her hands, and Leela, with a slimy squid-like carcaaa hanging from one hand by a tentacle. Its body didn’t quite drag along the floor behind her, but the tips of the tentacles did, which left an oozing pathway of gross in her wake.

Eight’s eyes shot wide with horror. He pointed toward the carcass with a sneer in his top lip. “And just what is that?”

“Dinner,” Leela called out proudly as she flicked her hand to toss it at the Doctor’s feet. “For yourself, or for your wolves, I don’t care. It shouldn’t go to waste, though.”

“Yeah,” he drawled with disgust. “It doesn’t quite fit with my non-GMO diet. As for my pair of wolves, I’d much rather not, thank you.” He kept his eyes on the slimy sludge on the floor and slapped his tongue to the roof of his mouth a couple of times. “They’d eat me before they’d eat _that_.”

Ten’s disgust perfectly mirrored that of his younger self. He was thrilled that the gift of a kill from Leela wasn’t for him, but found himself looking up with concern. “Care to explain what happened?” He looked toward Martha, his eyes quickly scanning for any kind of injury. “And are you okay, Martha?”

“Fine,” she answered with a shrug as she propped up the rounded part of the eyestalk on her shoulder. She slouched on one hip. “I wouldn’t have been if it hadn’t been for Leela.”

“She’s quite correct,” Leela agreed. “While the two of you were having your little chat about, well,” she smirked. “Your emotional things. A Dalek happened upon the two of us. I didn’t feel the need to disturb you.” She looked toward her Doctor. “And as you had stated that a single Dalek was well within my control, I decided to. Well. Kill it.”

Martha looked to her Doctor with wide eyes of absolute awe. “She was magnificent, Doctor. I’ve never seen anything like it outside of Wonder Woman or Jackie Chan. Leela literally climbed the wall, held herself up there like a Tom Cruise star fish, and then just descended on it.” She walked closer to him. “Did you know, that there is a release hinge right at the very base of the head? One little flick with the knife, and it popped open!” She chuckled. “ Just like that.”

Leela had self pride in her posture and looked toward Martha. “Does this mean you’d like to take the next one we encounter?” She held over her knife. “You can use this one if you like. Don’t’ worry, I have more just like it.”

Martha was all smiles as she held up her hands and backed up a step or two. “Oh no. I don’t think I can manage it with that amount of class. I’m happy to watch and learn from you.”

Leela looked toward Ten. “I like her. She’s smart.” She turned on her heel to put her back to him. “Now treat her that way, yeah?” She flicked her hand toward her own Doctor. “Now, I heard that we’re heading back to the TARDIS, is that correct?”

“It is.”

“Perfect. I’ll take lead.” She dipped to one side to pick up the carcass.

“Leela, don’t, really,” Eight muttered. “It’s really, truly disgusting, and not something I want on my TARDIS.”

“I wasn’t going to take it to the TARDIS,” she answered with a shrug as she picked it up again. “I was going to put it somewhere so it isn’t found. It’s a long way back to the ship, Doctor, and it might be best for all of us if the Daleks didn’t find one of theirs murdered before we get there.”

“Good point,” he agreed as he slipped his hands into his trouser pockets and walked alongside both Martha and the Tenth Doctor. “I – uh – I’ll let you decide where to throw it then.”

Ten stared ahead of them as they exited the craft and stepped into the drakness of an Askolian night. He felt oddly safe although he could barely see six feet in front of him. “Who do you have that can speak Kaled?” he asked after a moment.

Eight smiled. “Surprised you can’t work it out,” he said with a smile. “Travelled with us in our 4th. Liked to constantly remind us that she was much, much, smarter than us…”

“Romana,” he breathed out with affection. “I have to admit, I didn’t even think of that – or of reaching out to anyone on Gallifrey for that matter.”

“I find that strange,” Eight remarked. “We do have a good support network there right now. Romana, Brax…” He looked up to Leela’s silhouette ahead of them. “Leela and Andred.”

“Yeah,” he breathed out sadly. “We did, didn’t we?”

“And we don’t now?”

He heard the worry inside his younger self’s voice, and opted for the lie. “Of course we do – I just tend to prefer to get things done on my own.”

“If that’s your preference,” he said with a shrug. “I prefer to use all of the tools at my disposal, and if Romana and Brax can help, then by Rassilon’s crest, I’ll ask them for it.”

Ten hummed in contemplation at his side. He considered the life of him back then, when he had Gallifrey in his rearview, and friends who were … well … who were just like him: Long lived, jaded, and adventurous. Rassilon he missed them all – even the ones he didn’t really like.

His eyes flicked up at the movement ahead as Leela let out a small shrill cry into the night and underhanded the carcass into the bushes. Her words from earlier then swam in his head. He Stopped short and looked at his younger self. “Hold on. You have _wolves_?”


	31. Admonishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martha has a few words to say to the Eighth version of the Doctor when things are revealed...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost didn't get this done today. Although I stayed home because I am just feeling all bleugh because it's still winter, I had snow to shovel, and other stuff to do that I didn't want to do, and... ugh ... adulting is so overrated!
> 
> Okay, so for those of you who wanted Eight to get a bit of a verbal beating about taking Rose as his instead of sending her home ... you're welcome.
> 
> Now I'm going to eat pizza ... I made the thing from scratch and am still picking flour out of my nails ... so I'm going to nom nom before my lads scarf it all down...
> 
> Thanks as always for your comments! They are an inspiration!!
> 
> GK

~~oooOOOooo~~

“Hold on. You have _wolves_?”

Eight gave a nod. “A mated pair of Dahrama.” He could see his TARDIS in the distance and projected a desperate will toward her to have the most potent kind of caffeinated tea available when they got there.

“How in Rassilon did we get a pair of…” Ten paused his words and frowned an expression of incredulity. “And how do I not remember _that_?”

“The same way you don’t remember anything else we got up to in the past two years living on Gallifrey,” he muttered with a shrug in his shoulders. “And when this adventure of ours is over, I’d really like to get into your head and find out just why it is that you don’t.”

“Do it now,” he commanded with an impatient sneer as they walked. “Contact, Doctor. Go ahead.”

“When the adventure is _over_ ,” he repeated. “Quite frankly, Doctor, I’m really not in the mood for telepathic contact right now – especially as we are in the wilderness with Dalek forces all around us.” He rubbed a kink forming in the back of his neck. “ _That_ , and something tells me I might need a strong beverage to prepare myself to get into _your_ head.”

“Like yours would be any more pleasant.”

“You might be surprised.”

Martha sighed a long suffering breath. “Watching the two of you is like watching a pair of siblings go at it.” Beside her, Leela chuckled. “Really, Doctor. Both of you. My brother and sister can go at it like there’s no tomorrow, but even as kids they weren’t as bad as you are.” She shook her head. “You’d think at 900, you’d be a bit more mature than them.”

Eight’s brows lifted and he looked at the man beside him. “900?”

Ten shrugged. “Give or take.”

“I was 1,150 when I regenerated in this body. Just what are your metric parameters for _give or take_?” He then smirked. “Oh, I get it. Like a Human woman that never ages beyond 29, refusing to hit her thirties even though she’s pushing 40.”

Martha sniffed indignantly. “I’d take offence to that very sexist remark, Doctor… If it wasn’t true.”

“My apology if I offended you, Martha,” he crooned with honesty. “It wasn’t intentional.” He looked back to his counterpart with a chuckle. “A bit vain this time around, are we?”

His hands were deep in his pockets, and his arms were held straight. His shoulders slumped just slightly. “Yep,” he popped. “Seems that way, doesn’t it? Happens when you regenerate into a _pretty_ man trying to impress a _pretty_ woman.” He breathed out. “Still. Best that I make the best of it, I suppose. Stuck with this me for now.”

Eight had one fist covering a yawn as he pushed his hand against the TARDIS door. He stepped back to politely let everyone else on board before him, smiling at a gesture of affection from Leela, who touched at his arm on her way past. “You need some sleep,” she cautioned him.

“Sleep is for the tortoises,” he answered back with a wink and a smile.

“And Time Lords,” she added as they both stepped inside. “Especially those who just became a new…”

Anything else may have wanted to say was halted by the loud gasp and then reverent sigh from the other human on board the TARDIS. Martha walked with a twirl as she took in the cavernous majesty of the younger TARDIS. “Oh my God, Doctor. This TARDIS is amazing!”

Eight gave her a broad grin. “Thank you, Martha. I’m sure the TARDIS will be very pleased to hear you say that.” He looked up. “Isn’t that right, old girl. Love a good compliment, don’t you? Now be a dear, will you, and make sure that this lovely young lady has a good steaming cup of hot tea.” He smiled. “And while you’re at it, how about one for me as well?”

Ten was near the console. He looked up at the ceiling, tracing each line, arch, and curve with his eyes. “Yes. I do miss this layout,” he breathed. “She really was beautiful.”

Eight joined him by the console. “How does she look now?”

“Recovering,” he answered with a sigh. His head lowered. “Gone back to her bare bones right now.”

“Recovering from what?”

“Everything,” he breathed out sadly. He blinked, and then shook himself. “But now’s not the time for reminiscing and getting all misty eyed about time passed.” He clapped his hands. “We have a Dalek fleet to hijack. Let’s get on that, shall we?”

Eight nodded. Now that he was in the relative safety of his ship, his tiredness was settling in. His movement to the console was slower than his usual energetic skip and jump. He rather patiently shifted his fingers across the keyboard in front of a low-seated monitor. “Before I reach out to Romana, I would like to make sure that all of the connections to the other ship are stable, and that the Daleks weren’t smart enough to put in a few redundancies in the event someone might try this.”

“Who could get close enough to even try?” Ten said with a shrug. “No one but us, really.”

Eight smirked. “I think it’s quite safe to suggest that when the Daleks design anything, they’ve factored the Doctor into their plans.” The smirk shifted to a grin. “Doctor-proofing.”

Ten blurted out an incredulous laugh. “No such thing as Doctor-proofing anything. It’s just a minor challenge. A mere annoyance in my day.” He leaned over his younger self’s shoulder. “So-o-o?” he drawled. “How did we do?”

Eight yawned into his fist. “Holding steady for now, just running a few more diagnostics to make sure we haven’t had anything hijack _us_ in the process.”

Leela appeared at his side with a cup of strong black tea in one hand, and a slice of pie in the other. “Drink, and eat,” she commanded. “And if we have time, then you should rest.”

“I’m fine,” he assured her with a tip of the cup. “And thank you.”

Martha stood beside her own Doctor, a cup of tea in one hand, a plate with pie in the other – but neither of them were for him. When he looked at her in question, she took a forkful of pie into her mouth. “You’ve got legs and a heartbeat, Doctor. You can get your own.”

He looked down at the pie with a petulant expression. “I don’t like pie, anyway.”

She grinned at him, her usually white smile full of crumbs and orange-yellow slush. Her lips closed to cover the mess and she swallowed with a long moan. “Oh, what you’re missing, then. This is out of this world.” She set her plate on the console edge and looked across the Eight. “Everything okay?”

He nodded in reply. “I can’t see that we’ve managed to trigger any alarms across the Dalek networks, and the TARDIS has a stable connection to the ship.” He forked a mouthful of pie. He then let out a very short moan of appreciation and swallowed before speaking again. “I’ll find a way to transfer the feed protocols to the Capitol on Gallifrey to free up my TARDIS, and will let Romana and her teams work as much damage as they possibly can.”

“First things first,” Leela injected. “The Askolians trapped in the Arks need to be released and their planet made secure.”

Eight agreed. “We can’t do that from in here, and as we do need to be at site to coordinate their rescue and the defeat of the Daleks…” His lips pursed and he hummed in thought.

Martha slapped away Ten’s hand as it moved toward her plate of pie. “Is there any way you can set up a remote control kind’ve thing? Something that links back to the TARDIS, but can be controlled from the outside?” She swatted at her Doctor’s wandering hand as it walked with fingers across the console toward her plate. “Do you mind?”

His eyes fixed hard on her, indignance and petulance settling in. “Building a remote control is a great idea,” he half cheered in a voice that completely betrayed his expression. “I’m sure that he and I can cobble something together that’ll do the trick.” With his eyes on hers, he flicked a smile and then stabbed his second and middle fingers into the meatiest part of the pie. He gave those fingers a good swirl in the fruit and popped them back out. He immediately thrust those fingers into his mouth and made an overt show of sucking them clean.

Martha’s eyes narrowed. She shook her head in slow controlled movements as she dropped the plate with a clutter on the console. “You’re a child,” she snarled. “A 900 year old child.”

“Probably closer to thirteen hundred,’ Eight corrected softly with a shake in his head. “Which doesn’t make it any better.” His eyes lifted to his elder self. “That wasn’t very nice, Doctor.”

“ _What_?” he sang back innocently as he used the hook of his second finger to slide the plate across the console toward him. He then picked it up, plate in one hand, fork in the other. “This is actually _really_ very good.”

“Yes,” Eight drawled slowly. “It is, quite.”

“Magnolia?”

“Yes,” he answered. “Now if you’d please focus. I can split the signal from the TARDIS to send one to Gallifrey, and the other toward a remote console if that’s the way we want to take it.” He shot a tired, pointed look toward his elder self. “Would you mind _cobbling something together_ while I speak with Romana?”

He nodded, while shovelling pie into his mouth and gestured to the side with a tipoff his head. “I’ll go see what we’ve got available to get all jiggery pokey with.”

Martha leaned backward from where she remained at the console to look at him down over her shoulder. “Need my help?”

He waved her off as he walked – pie plate in hand. “Not unless you’re knowledgeable about application programming interface and object-orientated programming and how to properly marry it within an integrated development environment to perfectly settle within the near field communications of the Dalek ship..” He spun in his walk to face her and walk backward at the same time. “And if you have a working knowledge of Kaled language, that would help immensely.” He grinned a wide smile at her. “Do you?”

“No,” she sang back with cheek. “But do remember that as a Medical student, I have rather intimate knowledge in how to remove your organs in alphabetical order.” Her smile fell to seriousness. “So sleep with one eye open.”

Leela let up a laugh. The Tenth Doctor pointed a finger at her, then back toward Martha. “You two aren’t allowed to play together anymore.” He spun on his heel, shoveling a forkful of pie into his mouth, and disappeared through a door.

The Eighth Doctor blew out what appeared to be a breath of relief. “I thought he’d never leave,” he muttered with a lean forward and a flick of a switch.

“Do you have any reason to not want him here.” Leela moved to stand beside him, and in view of the camera feed. She signalled for Martha to join them.

“Romana is at the hospital,” he answered with a flick of his eyes upward toward the door. “And as I assume you’ve already gathered, there are things he doesn’t need to see right now.” He looked toward the monitor as it flickered to life. “Best we sterilize the feed before he returns.” 

“Understood,” she agreed under her breath. She looked to her left toward Martha. “It’s important that anything you may see or hear right now, you can never speak of it to your Doctor. I need your vow on that.”

Martha nodded, unsure of just what could be so incredibly sensitive that it couldn’t be shared. She would not argue, though – at least not yet. “You have my word.”

The monitor flashed to life, and the image of a beautiful woman, with deep green eyes edged with dark brows and lashes, long and shiny black-raven hair, and a full set of glossy red lips appeared on screen. Martha gaped at her beauty.

“Lady Romana,” the Doctor greeted with a smile.

“Doctor,” she breathed with a thankful smile. “I didn’t expect to hear from you so quickly.”

“I didn’t expect to have to contact you before we were ready to return,” he answered with a rub of his hand at the back of his neck. “But, it seems that I need to ask you for some assistance in order to get this assignment of yours completed satisfactorily.”

“I see,” she answered back as she juggled a small crimson-coloured bundle from one side of her chest to another. Her eyes were downcast toward the little thing. “What do you need? Additional support?” 

He smiled. “No support, thanks. I already have far too many Time Lords here for my liking.”

Her eyes lifted quicky, wide with hope. “Does that mean you’ve found survivors from the battle capsule fleet?”

Guilt crossed his face at the question. Honestly, they hadn’t even looked. “Well. No. I can’t say that we have, however, we haven’t exactly scanned the entire area. The possibility – while low – is still a possibility.”

“Then I admit it scares me to ask what you mean by _too many_ _Time Lords_.”

“Your fears are founded,” he said with a sigh and a flick of his eyes back up to the doorway. “Are you with Rose?” He ignored the gasp from Martha. “And is she okay?”

She turned her head to look over her shoulder. “Rose is sleeping right now, and is well,” she answered. “Your brother and I are taking turns in taking care of the little one.” She displayed the tiny little face hidden within the soft crimson blanket. “Although I do challenge Braxiatel in being able to take him from me. Such a precious little darling he is.”

Martha whimpered in that terrifically stereotypically feminine manner when presented with a newborn. “Oooh,” she cooed. “A baby. A little Time Lord baby.”

Leela had very much the same reaction, except that she dropped her head onto his shoulder. “Oh, Doctor,” she breathed out. “He’s absolutely beautiful.”

“He is,” he sighed with pride. “And hopefully for him, nothing like his father.”

“Hold on,” Martha interrupted. “Is he _yours_?” Her head shook and her face creased. “He never told me he was a dad…”

“Yes, well…”

Her hands flew to her mouth. “This is what he’s forgotten, isn’t it?”

“Oh dear,” Romana breathed out over the link. “A future companion. You’ve managed to meet up with an older one of you?”

“I have,” he answered.

“Is it at all possible for you not to encounter any form of monumental disaster on what should be a very simple assignment?”

“In my defence,” he defended. “There was nothing simple about what you sent Leela and myself into. Having him here – albeit a headache – has actually aided us in being able to pull this off with any kind of success.”

She nodded. “Fine. Which one? Hers?” She asked worriedly. She looked back over her shoulder, and then back. “Wait, don’t answer that. Give me a moment to surrender the child, and we’ll discuss.” She cooed softly in Gallifreyan words that made both Leela and the Doctor smile as she handed the baby to someone off screen. “Thank you, Brax. Yes. I promise to keep you informed.” She appeared to be walking out of the room and into the corridor. “There are no ears now, Doctor. So tell me what I need to hear, and what damage control I may need to put in place.”

“None for now,” he answered. “As to which of me I bumped into: It’s the one she left.”

“Well this just got complicated, didn’t it?” Her eyes flicked to one side, no doubt looking at Martha. “I must ask for your confidence on this. You cannot tell him what you’ve seen.”

“I don’t exactly know how you can ask me not to,” she argued on a light but very unnerved voice. 

“Timelines,” she warned. “You could destabilise the timelines, and by association, all of reality if you do.”

“But he needs to know,” she pleaded. “He should know that the woman he loves is still alive.” She looked to the Doctor. “You’ve seen it for yourself. Her loss is torturing him.” Her face creased. “And in turn torturing those of us who come along after.”

He put his hand on her shoulder, wincing when she jerked free of his touch. “I’m sorry, Martha,” he promised gently. “There is obviously a reason that he was made to forget this time of our lives, and I will look into that once we have this planet free and her people safe from the Daleks. Right now, that’s more important.”

Martha’s face was an expression of hostility, but she said nothing further. She took a step back from the console’s edge and stood just shy of both Leela and the Doctor with her arms folded loosely across her chest. Her head was low and her breathing shallow.

“Can she be trusted not to speak of this?” Romana asked unashamedly over the comms, fully aware that Martha was listening.

Leela lifted her nose. “I believe that she is,” she answered firmly. “Her obvious affection for the Doctor means that she will do what is best.” She looked at the woman standing angrily just off to her side. “Isn’t that right, Martha Jones?”

“I hope that we all don’t live to regret your benevolence, Leela,” Romana warned her. “Just remember that I can order the Doctor to perform a telepathic memory regression if necessary.”

“Not necessary,” Martha breathed out. She didn’t wholly understand what would be involved in a telepathic memory regression, and really didn’t want to find out. “I’ll stay quiet – but only to the future one of him.” She looked toward the younger man. “Do be warned, Doctor, that I have several words that I’d like to say to you before this is all over.”

“I’ve no doubt about that,” he muttered. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

Romana looked between the two of them in wonder if more words may be shared. When silence fell instead, she cast her gaze to the Doctor. “So, Doctor, tell me what you need from me?”

One side of his lips cut up into a smile. “How’s your Kaled these days?”

She closed her eyes and breathed a deep inhale. When they opened again they were tired. “If you want me to try and negotiate, I’m sorry. You won’t get that help from me. I tried that with Davros in the past and was unable to come to any form of agreement.” She shook her head. “Skaro and the Kaled culture are too far gone now. And quite frankly, after all they’ve inflicted upon the universe over the past several centuries, I’d much rather call war than try peace.” She sniffed and lifted her nose in an arrogant and regal manner. “So come up with something else, Doctor. I’m more than happy to send our entire battle fleet and destroy the lot of them if you wish.”

Martha’s anger seemed to flail somewhat at the vehemence in Romana’s voice. This was a woman who didn’t want to ponce around and play nice for nice’s sake. She finally lifted her head to listen.

“No need for that,” the Doctor answered with a light laugh. “I must admit that I’m disappointed, Romana. Why would you think I’d want to negotiate?”

“Because you’re too soft at heart not to want to try,” she answered with affection. 

“Shhhh,” he hissed. “Don’t let that rumour get out. I _do_ have a reputation to uphold you know.” At her laugh, he tapped at the keyboard. “I’m sending through some signal codes to access the main communications systems on the Dalek ship. We – my future and myself – were thinking that with your fluency in Kaled, you could take over communications to the other ships with orders to vacate the constellation, get lost. Go die. Whatever you think will be most effective.”

She rubbed at her jaw. “That’s actually quite a good idea, Doctor. Is it a signal that we can permanently monitor going forward, do you think? It could be quite beneficial to have access like this given their propensity to skulk across the universe on their eternal mission of exterminating complete planets one at a time.”

He gave a short smile as his eyes traced along the pathways of his fingers across the keyboard. “Don’t know that I can make that promise, dear. As much as I do hate to admit it, the Daleks are quite clever. I don’t imagine it would take them too long to discover that the Time Lords have managed to attach themselves to their communications signals.” He lifted his eyes. “So have as much fun as possible while you do have access. _You’re welcome_.”

“I’ll head to the Capitol now, and work with our comms team to put out some communications to get other ships out of your area, and hopefully out of the rest of the universe as well.” She looked off to one side and then back. “That will only leave Brax to stay with Rose.”

“Are our Dahramas there?”

She shook her head. “No, much to the chagrin of both, we can’t get permissions to allow them into the maternity ward. Not even my office can help with that.”

“They need to be fed…”

She gave him a flat stare. “Is there anything else you’d like to ask of your president, Doctor? Do you also have fish to feed and plants to water?”

He smirked. “Now that you mention it.”

Her head swung left to right in an amused shake. “I trust you have the rescue of the Askolians in hand, and won’t be needing my assistance with that as well.”

His eyes lifted as the Tenth Doctor walked into the console room holding up a _not-as-crude-as-usual_ control box in his hand. “I think I’ve got it…” He paused at the image of Romana on the screen and let out a peep. “By Rassilon, Romana?”

“Much rather not be put into the same category as old Rassilon,” she answered with a blink of her eyes in greeting to him. “But hello, Doctor. I must say, I do like the new body – very dashing and debonair, much like your brother. Brax would be most chuffed.”

He looked quite offended. “I do not look like him, thank you very much.” He looked at Martha with a pained furrow in his brow. “Should I just ditch the brown and stick with the blue do you think?”

“You look perfectly fine,” Romana crooned with a smile. She looked back to the Eighth verson of the man. “I’ll head to the Capitol now and pull together a trustworthy team to hold back any further Dalek forces, hopefully for much longer than just today. I’ll see you when you return.” Her eyes flicked to the elder version, who had stilled in place and looked upon the Time Lady with a gaze of longing. “And to you, Doctor. Hope to see you again in your future.”

With that parting comment, the screen flicked to darkened static snow. The Doctor shut it off with the flick of a switch. He rubbed his hands on his hips and looked at the device held by his younger self. “So?”

“One remote control device cobbled together a’la Docteur.” He stepped up to the console, hipping his younger self out of the way. He stooped to dig behind the monitor through wires. “Just need to find a cable that fits to hook it up and download the software to get it functioning the way I need it to. Do be a good fellow and stay out of my way for a few minutes.”

Martha broke from position on the other side of the console and walked to the other side. On her way around, she clutched a tight hold on the bunched silken fabric at the Doctor’s throat. “Great! And you’re doing that, I need to speak with your younger self, is that okay?”

He lifted his eyes and his brows, and passed a look between the two of them. “Ehm. Yeah,’ he drawled cautiously. “Go. Knock yourself out. Leave the hard stuff to me.”

Eight let himself be dragged by the much smaller Human girl. He could easily have fought against it, but to what end? She had something to say, and it was obviously far better done without the ears of his elder self flapping around trying to listen in. He therefore followed without complaint ... at least none spoken outside of his mind. Once they were in the kitchen, and Martha finally released him, he looked at the doorway.

“Don’t let him in here, no matter what,” he ordered the TARDIS. He then looked to her and thrust his hands into his trouser pockets. “Right. You’ve got something to say, so say it.”

She folded her arms across her chest and pursed her lips as she considered the best starting point to launch into the rant that had been forming in her mind over the past few minutes. Judging by his silence, his posture, his position, and the look in his eyes that dared her to let loose, she knew she had at least a moment to prepare.

“Well?” he challenged her finally. “Get on with it. I’ve got things to do, and would much prefer to get to it sooner rather than later.”

“You know,” she began in a seething, but calm tone. “In the time that I’ve known the Doctor – my Doctor,” she felt the need to clarify. “I’ve known him to be careless, thoughtless, oblivious, and sometimes even completely ignorant.”

He had a comment to that, but he decided to remain silent.

“But never have I known him to be deliberately cruel.”

He opted to step in at that. “And I suspect that’s what you think I’m being right now.”

A smile appeared on her face, but it wasn’t one that was friendly nor amused. It was one that was judgmental and disgusted. “I don’t even know that cruel can halfway sum up what you’re being…”

He lifted his eyes to the ceiling.

“And don’t you roll your eyes at me, thinking that I’m some pathetic little unevolved ape who doesn’t know any better.”

His eyes snapped back down to lock on hers. He was intentionally hard with his gaze. “Well?” he goaded her. “Are you done?”

Her finger snapped up and at the tip of his nose. “Not even close,” she growled. “Now, I going to admit that I have absolutely no idea where to even start on you and what you’re playing at right now, but you need to tell him about Rose.”

“And just what do I need to tell him about?” He asked her with a tilt in his head. 

“That he is a husband and a father,” growled as she pointed to the doorway. “And that the woman he’s been pining for since before I met him – thinking that she’s dead – is actually alive and living a life with a younger him…” her face screwed up with disbelief she was actually saying this, and worse, that it was actually happening. “And I can’t believe you would do that to yourself!”

His mouth opened to speak, but he was held short of speaking when she continued.

“And, I get this self-hatred thing you’ve got going on with yourself. I see it in your eyes every time we step out of the TARDIS, making you careless as though you couldn’t care less if you lived or died.” She huffed. “But this? You’ve taken it to a whole new level of let’s make it as fucked up as possible.”

He tilted his head at her, one eye in a tic. 

“And let me see if I’ve got this straight. Certainly correct me if I’m wrong at all,” she continued angrily. “You somehow come in from the past and steal away your girlfriend from the future. You take her back to Gallifrey, marry her, start a family with her…” Her hands lifted to rake her hands through her hair. 

“To make the _correction_ you asked for,” he snapped sharply. “I did not steal her away. She ended up on my TARDIS by mistake and I was already on Gallifrey before the TARDIS deemed it necessary to let me know she was here.”

“And you didn’t think it prudent to take her back into her proper timeline and return her to yourself?”

“Of course I did,” he snapped back. “My immediate plan was to take her back, return her to me, and carry on with my life.”

“And why didn’t it happen?”

“Because she didn’t want to go back,” he growled. “Because that fool outside those doors who claims to be desperately in love with her, treated her like she was nothing and chased her off.” He stepped toward her. “You heard him, he admitted it himself. When Rose stumbled into my TARDIS she was absolutely destroyed. There was no way she was going to return to the life he was offering.”

“So what?” she charged, her eyes hardening and her slouch going from annoyed to indignant. “You thought you’d just take her for yourself, instead?” 

“It’s complicated,” he said. “I don’t expect you to understand.” He tightened the pinch of his eyes. “But I do expect you to keep it to yourself.”

Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “No. I don’t think I can do that. He’s in pain, Doctor. If he knows that she’s not dead, that she’s alive…”

“He will tear apart the entire universe to find her,” he argued. His voice lessened in tone, but remained firm. “He can’t enter Gallifrey in this timestream, Martha.”

“And why not?”

He shook his head. “Because he can’t. It’s impossible. Gallifrey is time locked, it has been since the Untempered Schism was opened on my planet. And if that man if locked out and unable to get her, he’ll destroy the entire fabric of reality to get to her.”

“How do you know he’d do that?” she asked him quietly. “Instead of just being happy that she’s still out there?”

“Because that’s what I’d do,” he answered. “And that man out there, he’s me. And based on what he’s said to me today, I don’t doubt at all that he’d try.”

“Bu if he’s you,” she began, anger fleeing and confusion settling right in. “Then why can’t he remember?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “And to be frank with you, Martha. That scares me.” He put his hand on her shoulder, thankful that she didn’t jerk away from him this time. “Time, the universe, and all of the nuances they have … It makes things very complicated.” He squeezed her shoulder, hoping that it would make her look up at him. It really didn’t, but he continued talking anyway. “Rose Tyler, well. She has a big part to play in a fixed point that’s coming in the future. We don’t know what part that is, or what’s going to happen to any of us when it does, all I know is that Time demands that she remain on Gallifrey. I’m a time Lord. I have to obey.”

She lifted her eyes to his. They were red-rimmed and wet. “But if you explain that to him?”

“I shouldn’t have to,” he said with a rueful smile. “That man out there should have a full head of memories about this part of our lives,” his face tightened and he spoke passionately through his teeth. “The most _important_ and _brilliant_ part of our lives. But he doesn’t.” His face loosened and his eyes sank with fear. “And that is terrifying. Something has forced those memories forgotten, and until I can be sure just what caused it, I can’t be giving him any reminders.” He lowered his head to bring himself closer to her and softened his voice. “And neither can you.”

“But…?”

“You love him, Martha…”

“Not I don’t,” she said with a shake in her head.

He nodded and held her face in his hands. “You do. I don’t know why you do, but it’s clear to me that you do.” He ran his thumbs underneath her eyes. “If you trust him, then trust me. You can’t tell him.”

Caught up in the sincerity in his eyes, she couldn’t help but acquiesce to his command. “Okay,” she breathed. “I won’t.”

With that, he snapped an arm around her back and pulled her in for a tight hug. He tucked her head underneath his neck and set his chin on her head. ‘Thank you, Martha. From both your Doctors.”

“Will he ever remember?”

“I don’t know, he breathed out with a shudder in his exhale. “I really don’t.”

“Then I’ll be there for him,” she vowed. “If she can’t, then I will. I promise.”

“Thank you.”

She nestled inside his embrace. “Congratulations by the way.”

The kitchen door suddenly hissed open in front of them, revealing a very annoyed looking man in pinstripes. “This is where you go to? I’ve been wandering around this ship looking for you.” He held up his device. “We’re ready to go if the both of you…” He noticed them embracing. “Oh hold on. Just what is going on here?”


	32. Splitting Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctors switch Companions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't wanna talk about the finale.......
> 
> I'll post this instead. Sighhhh....
> 
> I hope you enjoy. Only one more chapter left for this one ....

~~oooOOOooo~~

Leela was in wait beside the doorway when the three of them returned to the console room of the TARDIS. Not so much irritated as she was eager to get out there and rescue a few people, she switched up her posture of leaning on the door, and pushing off it almost with every breath that she took. Her head lifted quickly as the sound of their footfalls entered the room.

“Are we ready?” she asked with wide eyes of thrill.

“I believe we are,” Eight answered with a smile as he crossed the floor. Shortly behind him, Martha and Ten walked, murmuring quietly to each other as Ten showed off his device to her. He looked over his shoulder at them and noted the affectionate smiles and physical closeness that they shared as his elder self spoke.

Oblivious, Martha has described him as. It certainly seemed that oblivion toward almost flirtation was the mood of the moment when Ten knocked shoulders with her and let out a laugh.

Leela met him halfway across the floor. Her eyes shifted to Martha, who now had her hands on the device while her Doctor poked and pointed out parts of it to her. “Are we going to have a problem with her?” she asked warily.

Eight shook his head. “No, Leela. I think she and I have come to an arrangement and she’ll withhold what she’s seen and heard.”

“For now,” she breathed out with distrust. Her eyes shifted up to him. “But when they leave here, what guarantee do we have that she won’t?”

“I trust her not to,” he said firmly with a hard look into her eyes. “And so I ask that you trust her as well.”

“Are you very sure of that?”

“Absolutely, my dear girl.” He gave her a wink. “Even if she was so inclined, she’s now quite physically unable to do so.”

She looked confused and curious. “I don’t understand.”

He smiled and leaned down to speak in her ear. “I’m a Prydonian Telapathic Master,” he reminded her. “All it takes is a small amount of physical contact … a simple hug will do it.”

She nodded. Her eyes hardened into warning. “And the two of you embraced?”

“We did.”

She turned on her heel to follow as he walked toward the door. She opened her mouth to comment on it, but was cut off by him.

“It was just a hug, Leela. Nothing more. No more threatening to my wife than if I was to hug you.”

“Please don’t ever do that,” she warned him.

Ten appeared at their side. “Don’t ever do what?” he asked curiously.

“Hug me,” Leela answered simply. She gestured to Eight, who was snickering lightly as he pulled open the TARDIS doors. “He explained to me that he embraced your companion.”

His lips pressed together and he gave her a nod. “Yes,” he confirmed. “I did see that.”

“You’re uncomfortable with it?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Humans, well, Earth Humans in their timeline,” he gestured toward Martha. “They’re enjoy their hugs and personal closeness. Even a kiss isn’t always considered to be inappropriate between friends.” He puckered his lips and then chuckled as he pointed to his mouth. “This pair have had more than one encounter…”

Martha giggled and leaned in toward Leela. “And he really is quite a good kisser.”

“I’d really prefer not to hear either of you say anything like that,” Eight called back with dissatisfaction in his tone. He looked to his elder self. “Really? With your companion?”

He scratched at his head, “Well,” he drawled. “At that juncture she wasn’t my _companion_. Just happened to end up running at my side when her hospital got transferred to the moon.”

“To the moon,” Eight breathed out with shake of his head. “Of course. Such a romantic ambiance…”

“Calm down. It was done for genetic transfer,” he answered with a shrug. “Necessary in the moment. Judoon. Long story, really.”

“And I’m quite sure that there were no other ways to do it.”

“You do what you need to,” he defended. He thrust his hands into his pockets, his mouth twisted into annoyance. “And if you’d be so kind as to stop judging me, I’d appreciate it.”

“I’ll do what I can, but it would help me greatly not to do so if you’d stop admitting to things that are judge worthy.”

They reached the overlook that Leela and the Eighth Doctor had stood upon earlier. Eight regained his position in a lean against the tree. Leela dropped into her crouch. Ten stood tall with his hands in his trouser pockets and his coat billowed out either side of his parted ankles. Martha stood at his side, the control panel held into her chest with both hands.

Below, the Arks sat silently, three of them, all side by side, each flanked by a large group of Daleks standing still on patrol. Several of the Daleks rode the perimeter in pairs, random electronic mutterings being shared between them.

“Okay,” Ten breathed out through a throat constricted because of a lowered head. His eyes were lifted to scan the area. “There are a few more down there than I expected there to be.”

“And more than were here when Leela and I were here earlier,” Eight added darkly. “Too many for only the four of us to handle.”

“We can create a distraction,” Leela offered. “Break into our respective parings. Pull them away from the Arks.” She looked up to her Doctor. “That should leave only minimal targets for us to deal with.”

“I’m worried about their death rays,” Eight admitted. “We can create a distraction for sure, however, if we aren’t quick enough to evade several shots at one time, then we might not be able to hold them off long enough for the pair who remain at the Arks to get the Askolians clear.” He looked back down to her, ad then spared a look toward Martha. “The Doctor and I can regenerate if we’re hit. The two of you can’t. I’m not risking either of you with a diversion tactic.”

“It would be an honourable death,” Leela offered softly. 

“Not on my watch,” Eight assured her firmly. “Your son needs a mother, and I’ll make sure he has one when we finish today.” He touched his hand to her shoulder, and she looked up with a smile from her crouch. “So please stay with me and don’t wander off.”

She covered his hand with hers. “As long as you take your own advice. Together, right?”

Martha looked toward her Doctor, wondering when he would make the same heartfelt plea toward her. It didn’t surprise her too greatly to see that his eyes were locked on the scene below, following Daleks and scanning the area with a tight focus. Whether or not he heard any of the exchange between Leela and his younger self, she really couldn’t tell. She prodded for his attention with a soft call of his name.  
  


He blinked quickly, shaking his head with short rapid movements as he took his focus off the scene below and looked at his companion. “Martha. I’m going to need to you promise me that you aren’t going to wander off and get yourself into trouble,” he ordered her firmly. “You know what these things are like, and despite being a very clever girl, brains really won’t win a battle against a Dalek ray. Stick with me, and I can protect you.”

“I’m not a damsel in distress,” she argued softly. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know,” he came back with a wide grin. “It’s one of the reasons I like you so much. Don’t have to do much on the protection front, really. Well,” he sang. “There was that one time on the space ship where I may have had to step in and help. Oh, and on New Earth.” His eyes widened. “ _That_. That was a tough rescue…”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. 

“But! For the most part, Brilliant!” He repeated that word over and over under his breath as he walked the tree line, his focus now back on the scene below. “Absolutely brilliant…”

Eight stepped to his side. “You’re unnerved. And that’s never a good thing…”

“It looks like they’re readying to transport the arks,” he breathed out. He then pointed to another outcropping beyond the arks, where the flickering lights of fire danced briefly across the landscape. “Look over there. Can you smell that?”

Eight inhaled a deep breath. He held it and closed his eyes to analyse just what the scent could tell him. His eyes flashed open quickly. “Artron,” he breathed out. “Regeneration wash.”

Ten nodded. “There are Time Lords here,” he said with hope in his voice. “Survivors.”

He looked to his side at his elder self. “Injured survivors.”

“Martha’s a medical student,” Ten blurted out quickly. “She should be able to help them.”

Leela lifted herself to a stand. She looked toward her Doctor. “You should go down there,” she advised softly. “You’ve got the expertise in treating injured Time Lords. Take Martha with you for assistance.

Eight nodded and gave her a cheeky salute and smile. “Yes, Commander.”

She grinned. “Commander, oh yes, I do like that title.” She held her hand out to Martha. “Please give me that device. Your Doctor and I will deal with the Daleks and freeing the prisoners. Go with my Doctor, he’s one of Gallifrey’s leading surgeons…”

“A _what_?” Ten barked incredulously watching Martha hand it over. “Since when?”

“Not now,” Eight snapped. He walked to Leela and cupped her face in both hands. He leaned in close and looked her in the eyes. “Be careful, Leela. I expect to see you in one piece when this is over.”

“And you,” she answered with a boop on the tip of his nose with her finger. “I want to see this face when we leave Askola.”

Martha slid her arms underneath her Doctor’s arms and pulled in against his chest got a tight embrace. Even though his return gesture was no where near as tightly held as hers, she felt his breath across her head and his hearts beat against her chest. “You be careful as well,” she demanded. She pulled back only far enough to look up at his surprised expression. “I need someone to take me home, remember.”

His surprise softened into a smile. “Remember, he’s me. Stay with him, don’t wander off, and you’ll be safe.” His eyes shifted to his Eighth self. “Am I right?”

He nodded and moved forward to take Martha’s hand in his. “It would be an honour to protect you Martha Jones. Now without further ado, shall we head down and put our medical training skills to the test?”

She looked down at their joined hands, and then up to his face with a wide smile on her face. “Absolutely.”

“Well come on, then,” he cheered with a tug on his hand. He looked to the other Doctor and Leela and gave them a tip of his fingers to his head in a mild salute. “Do be careful.”

And with that, hand in hand, Martha and Eight took off around the trees and disappeared into the darkness. The Doctor watched with high brows. “A surgeon?”

Leela slapped the back of her hand against his chest. “As the Doctor said: Not now. Come, on, Doctor. We have some work to do.”

“Yes,” he drawled. “Yes, you’re right. Well. Let’s go, then. Allonsy!”

Leela and the Doctor fled quickly down the embankment, being careful to stay as well hidden within the trees and bushes as possible. Their run was swift enough, that it was only because of a tree that he didn’t slide out into the open and at the base of a Dalek’s skirt. Leela’s descent was far more controlled, needing only a short hop to come to a complete stop.

“Wait,” he hissed out through his teeth as she shifted to lift up from her crouch at his side. His hand was on her shoulder and it took only a flex of muscles to hold her firmly in place. “Wait.”

She couldn’t see over the thick shrub that scratched angrily at her nose and so she looked up at him in wait. She noticed the dimple in his cheek that deepened with a grit of his teeth and so used the tight set of his jaw to determine when to move. “How many?” she asked him after a moment.

The hand on her shoulder lifted into a stop sign just above her, his silent command to tell her to wait just a moment. That moment seemed to pass quickly.

“The control in your hand, Leela,” he began quietly. “As well as being able to remotely control their movements – at least I hope it does, anyway – it can also be used to send out a message to all of them.”

“For what purpose?” she asked with a furrow in her brow. “If we can control them, why would we also need to send a message.”

He huffed out a breath. “Remote control capabilities really are quite limited,” he began quietly. His eyes were still on the scene ahead of them, and didn’t yet drop to look at her. “Even with the help of the TARDIS, I don’t think our range would be much more than around 500 feet in radius.” His lips puckered. “The communication field is much broader of course.”

“That’s still plenty of range,” she ventured.

“Yeah,” he drawled with a scratch at his sideburn. “But not nearly enough. Once we get control of their movements, they’re libel to send out a distress message to other Daleks in the area. They’ll descend on us quicker than we can hijack their programming.” He blew out a breath. “So. This means we have to get as many of these out of the area, and out of range of attack, as we can first.”

She moaned. “Was this always part of the plan?”

He cleared his throat and tugged at his earbobe. “Well. No. Not exactly. I added it as a just in case option when the upload to Gallifrey was being completed. Which is a good thing, because I wasn’t exactly counting on losing half of our team and dealing with triple the amount of Daleks.” He looked down at her. “You’re more than capable, of course. Not a doubt in my mind about that, but not against an army of them.”

“I still think we should try out the distraction technique to break apart the group,” she said with a sigh, slowly lifting to a stand now that his hand was no longer holding her down by the shoulder. She looked into the pack of Daleks only feet away from them and winced. “Cancel that suggestion. I can see what you mean by _too many_.”

He held out his hand for the remote control. “I preloaded a communication advising of intruders at the ship. Hopefully this will move enough of them out that we won’t overload this thing by trying to connect to too many of them.” He flicked a lever, turned a dial, and then pressed a button. His lips turned up in a smile as a small LED light flashed red in the centre. “Message sent, now to hold out breath and…”

There was almost immediate movement among the group of Daleks. A static, robotic command for many of them to return immediately to their ships raked across the field. It made the Doctor smile a wide toothy grin of triumph that this plan had – for the moment – worked. In fact, it seemed to work a lot better than he had originally planned that it would. The mass movement of Daleks had left only three still on patrol – one for each Ark.

“Brilliant,” he purred out happily, an almost giggle sound coming from his throat. He held up the remote to Leela. “We might not even need this now.”

“Keep it on you, just in case,” she warned him.

“Was planning on it,” he replied with a shrug as he tucked it into his coat pocket. He held out his hand to her. “Shall we?”

She looked at his hand, then back up at him. There was a shake in her head as she lifted a hand that held a knife within it. “I take that,” she said with a look at his hand. “Then I can’t carry this.”

“Right,” he said with a swallow. “Of course.”

Leela took the lead walking out from their sanctuary. She kept her posture low and cautious, in a stoop with one knife held ahead of her, held firm in a dagger-hold. She slinked around trees and fence posts, trying to stay as concealed as possible. Her companion, on the other hand, walked tall and unwavered, right out in the open, his hands in his trouser pockets.

“Doctor,” she hissed in a whisper after a moment. “around here.” Her head tipped in the direction of the rear of an Ark.

He shook his head and continued forward. “Give me a moment.”

One of his hands shifted toward his coat pocket, and to the remote control hidden within it. “I’m going to take your advice”, he murmured. “Lead the transfer of prisoners from one arc to the other. I want one of them nice and empty.”

“And what do you plan to do?” she growled. 

“Distraction,” he answered with a smirk. He looked to her. “Like you said, distraction.” His brows lifted and fell, lifted and then fell again. “I think I want to have a little fun with these.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course you do,” she huffed. “Do what you have to. Just don’t get killed.”

“Oh. I won’t.”

There was only a small rustle as Leela disappeared around one of the arks. When he was sure she was out of sight, he kicked at the dirt and strode confidently into the clearing, where the remaining three Daleks stood on guard. “Well,” he sang out happily. “Hello. Nice day for it today, isn’t it?” He looked up into the sky. “Not that there are ever any days that aren’t so nice here on Askola. They don’t tend to have weather events like most planets.”

“Halt,” one of the Daleks commanded. It rolled forward out of formation toward him. “Identify yourself.”

“Oooh,” he sang out with a lift in his eyes and a scrunch in his top lip. “Why don’t you take a guess?” He leaned forward, his hands still in his pockets. “Let me give you a little hint.” He could see Leela’s movements behind the three machines, and see that she was efficiently shifting the small-statured lavender-skinned Askolian people from one Ark into another. He rocked back on his heels as his thumb flicked at a switch on the control inside his pocket. “This isn’t the first time I’ve met any of you lot.” He blew out a breath that was hard enough to puff up his cheeks. “Well, it’s not really the second or third times, either. At last count, I’d say, oh, about 50 times give or take.” He chuckled. “And as I was told today by my much younger self, my metric parameters for _give or take_ might be a little skewed by comparison to other people, so that number might just be more than a little bit off the mark…”

“Enough games,” the lead Dalek commanded. “who are you?” It tried to roll forward, but found itself to be stuck in place and unable to move. “Malfunction,” it said out loud.

“Oh,” the Doctor sang out with mock sympathy as he strode forward and gave it a flick on the eyestalk. “Had a bit of a systems error in your forward propulsion systems?” He shook his head and stepped past the eyestalk to lean his elbow on the side of it’s domed head. He looked to where Leela was still successfully coordinating the prisoner transfer between Arks. He turned his head to the side to speak to the lead Dalek, choosing not to engage with the other two, who weren’t even talking.

“Well? Have you figured it out yet?” He took the device from his pocket and made a show of looking it over, twisting it left, right, then turning it up and down. “Need another clue?”

:”What trickery is this?” the Dalek cried out. “How have I malfunctioned?”

“Well,” the Doctor huffed with a dramatic roll of his jaw and an exaggerated roll in his eye. “If you don’t want to play.” He sighed dramatically and flipped the device in the air, snatching it on the fall and then waved it in front of the eyestalk of the Dalek. “there are problems with using computerised systems and cloning them across your entire fleet is that it only takes one very clever person with knowledge in basic programming.” He paused. “Well, I say basic, but really it was a little more complicated than that. You really do have to be a little more clever than your average I.T. person to be able to pull this off with any real success.”

The Dalek seemed to give out a growl, but said nothing further. 

“Oh? Lost your ability to communicate as well?” He frowned. “Such a shame. Not hearing one of you call out to exterminate,” he made sure to accent that word with an exaggerated attempt at a Dalek voice. “something, well, that just doesn’t make this a true Dalek encounter, does it?”

Leela finally weaved through the two Daleks at the back. “If you’ve quite finished boasting like a peacock,”

“That would be preening,” he corrected with a shrug. “You looked like you were doing fine on your own. So? Are we ready now?”

“Quite,” she answered with a purr as she walked around one of the Daleks, scraping her knife along the casing. “Still just the three of them?”

“For now,” he said with a shrug. “But the device is warning that more are on their way.” He thumbed to the Ark. “I’ll secure the Arks and set the coordinates for Ferrioum. Should only need a minute to get them set for flight.” 

“Great,” she sang out with honest happiness in her voice. “I’ll just keep an eye on these three, make sure they don’t move.” She tipped her head. “Ever again.”

The Doctor actually chuckled as he half stooped, an arch in his back, the bring himself low enough to be able to read and program the small control panel at the side of the Ark. He heard the ping and clink of bolts being popped on at least one of the Daleks, but held off on trying to picture what was happening back there.

He shuddered at an invisible shockwave filled with Artron washed over the area, and looked up with concern about his younger self and his companion. 

His worry was quickly overtaken by slight panic when Leela popped her head around the Ark. “You might want to wrap it up, Doctor,” she warned. “We’ve got more Daleks on approach, and I don’t know how to use that contraption of yours.”

He slapped closed the door that covered the panel, and grabbed her hand to pull her back. He kept his eyes on the Ark. “Stand clear,” he warned. “Getting caught up in that blast might be just a little bit uncomfortable.”

He turned to run clear and found himself skidding in the dirt and sliding straight into the eyestalk of a grey and orange Dalek. “Doctor,” it greeted robotically. “We meet again.”

“Oh,” He breathed out with discomfort. “Rassilon…”


	33. Battlefield Medics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Martha do what they can to help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still in shock, and still shattered after last night...
> 
> But despite walking around shell shocked, I wrote this for you guys anyway...
> 
> I really really hope you like this bit... Warning for ickiness...
> 
> Thanks as always for your glorious comments. I truly and really appreciate them.

~~oooOOOooo~~

The scene was something out of a horror movie. Well, more accurately, a movie outlining war and suffering. The field, only a small section of land not covered by trees, was covered in bodies of wounded Time Lord soldiers. How many of them were truly expired, The Doctor couldn’t immediately assess. Random flashes of brilliant amber light exploded from a few, as regenerations took over their dying forms. Some were unmoving, likely exhausted of artron and unable to regenerate. Many of them were moaning in pain from injuries not quite severe enough to result in death or regeneration.

Blood, more orange than crimson, covered the ground and many of the men. The smell of iron was almost as strong as Artron, and as a combination, it was a vapid and choking aroma that would rival any other stench across the universe.

Only two battle capsules were still left standing, and even those machines were lilted to one side and exhausted. They were covered in soot and scars of Dalek ray strikes. The three other capsules lay dead and silent on their sides, their outer casing dented and ripped apart from the hard impact into the ground below.

There was no actual fire from the capsules themselves. Lighting came only from randomly set orbs and the occasional flash of regeneration.

Doctor and Martha ran hand in hand down the steep embankment toward the scene. His free hand was clenched into a fist, hers covering her mouth with horror. When they made it to the back, and to the feet of a non-moving soldier, the Doctor removed his hand from hers to drop into a crouch beside him. Martha’s other hand flew up to join the one already covering her mouth.

“My God, Doctor,” she breathed out sadly. “I just can’t…”

“Not the time to get emotional,” the Doctor ordered her firmly as he pressed his fingers against the throat of the soldier, hoping to feel any kind of life within him. “We need to focus, and to help. If the Doctor back up at the Ark’s cannot hold back the Daleks, then we face them coming down here to finish the job.”

Her hands were still over her mouth, but she nodded as she fought back tears.

There was no pulse underneath his fingers, and the Doctor lowered his head for a short Gallifreyan prayer to their ancestors. He then looked up to her as he slowly lifted to a stand. “My elder self said that you were a medical student. I’ll assume that I have then spoken to you about the Gallifreyan body and the differences between you and us.” He swallowed when she shook her head. “I see. How much do you know about Gallifreyan physiology, then?”

“Two hearts,” she answered softly. “That’s all.”

He nodded. “That’s actually important, and could be quite helpful.” He took her hand and led her deeper into the field, looking at each man carefully. “Essentially, we are the same. So any first-aid or lifesaving efforts you would use on a human will work well enough on a Galifreyan.” He put his hands on her waist to lit her up over a fallen tree trunk. He kept his eyes on hers. “I can’t hold your hand right now,” he reminded her. “You’re going to have to work much of this on your own. Can I count on you to help?”

She nodded quickly. “I can.”

“Brilliant,” he said with a smile. “Now, just remember, my people regenerate. Well. Those that have regenerations left will, at any rate. Don’t try and save someone who can’t be saved. Work on those who have a better chance of pulling through instead.”

He released her waist and removed his jacket. “I’ll handle the tougher cases.”

“Of – of course, Doctor,” she answered, business slowly taking over from horror.

“And don’t be afraid to ask if you don’t know,” he said with a smile. “Even from the man you’re treating.”

“Will do,” she quickly jogged away in search of her first patient.

The Doctor rolled up his shirtsleeves and huffed out a breath as he took a look around. A young Gallifreyan medic, only about 25 by Earth standards, jogged up to him. The young man looked harried and definitely out of depth. Despite being the owner of a respiratory bypass that should have prevented breathlessness, the young fellow was most definitely out of breath. 

“Lord Doctor,” he panted with relief. “You’re here?”

“I am,’ he confirmed, although unnecessary. He looked up to Martha, who was already on her knees at the side of a soldier on the ground. “And I’ve brought along with me a young medical student who should be able to provide some support as well.” He waited until the man looked back at her, and then to him. “Yes. She’s human, but she’s very capable. I will expect you to offer her all of the respect and resources you would any of my staff in Arcadia.”

He nodded. “Understood, sir.”

He started to walk, observing the men on the ground as he passed them. “There is loss of life,” he remarked. “Too much of it. How are only some, but not all of the men regenerating?”

“New Dalek weaponry,” he said worriedly. “They’ve developed a new weapon that prevents regeneration.” He looked around. “Not all of the men were hit with these specific arms… but those that did.” He looked with panic toward the Time Lord. “They’re helpless, Sir. We can regenerate from a Dalek ray shot. But these aren’t rays, they’re round balls of death that embed themselves in the flesh and stop Lindos production.” He looked almost defeated. “Nerala, over there,” he pointed to a young man silent and still on the ground. “He was only on his second regeneration. He shold have been able to regenerate.”

The Doctor blew out a long breath. “So we have to assume now that none of these men can regenerate, which just made more accurate triage that much more important.”

“If they bleed,” the young man advised. “Then they won’t regenerate. If they don’t have any easily identifiable injuries, then it’s likely a Dalek ray hit – They’ll regenerate if they’ve got any incarnations left.”

“Good,” he breathed out. Repeating the word again as he took a second to think. “If we remove the implant in their skin,” the Doctor ventured with a look around, “then the implanbt could no longer suppress the Lindos production. Theoretically speaking, those that need to regenerate should be able to do so.”

“In theory,” the young medic agreed. “But who knows how long the implant’s effects will hold over?”

“One way to find out,” he boomed. “How many medics do we have on hand, and what supplies are left?”

“Three medics,” he answered quickly. “Not including yourself or your Human companion.”

“Martha,” he advised.

The medic nodded. “Martha. Of course.” He scratched his head. “As for supplies. We retrieved anything we could from the remaining two capsules. We have technicians on board working to repair them to flight status.” He looked at the downed crafts. “We can’t access anything or anyone from the three dead capsules.. I’m afraid we have to accept those as casualties. Rassilon be with them.”

“Rassilon be with them,” the Doctor repeated solemnly. He then lifted his head. “Right. Enough natter. Let’s get to work, shall we?”

~~oooOOOooo~~

It was only fifteen minutes, but it felt like hours to Martha. She had certainly done her time in the emergency room back in London. During World Cup Soccer, the emergency room could be a nightmare. Fights, Alcohol related disasters, car accidents, you name it. She’d seen it, and typically all in one night. Bu this? This was horror on a whole new level, and as she ran her fingers over the eyes of yet another soldier and said a silent prayer to her own deity for safe passage to heaven, she tried to steel herself to face another.

She approached a young man, who was conscious and writing in pain. His shoulder was weeping orange-red blood from a gaping wound half hidden underneath the thick leather of his jacket. He was shuddering when she knelt down beside him.

“Hello,” she greeted quietly.

He answered her in a language she didn’t understand at all. His speech was rapid, yet quiet, and even though she couldn’t understand him at all, she knew the words were broken and stuttered.

“I’m sorry,” she said gently. “I don’t speak Gallifreyan.” Her eyes lifted to look into his. “And I know you don’t understand me, but I’m here to help.”

“H-Human,” he managed to stammer out. “English?”

She gave him a broad smile. “Yes, I am. You can speak my language?”

He smiled, his teeth lined red with blood. “Translation circuit in my capsule,” he admitted. “M-Mine’s still alive.”

She unzipped the front of his jacket, revealing a blood-stained white tunic underneath. “I’m sorry, but this might hurt. I need to get your jacket off.”

“Are you a Doctor?” he asked with a wince as her hand slid underneath his jacket and over his shoulders. He lifted his back to help her with the garment. “I mean on Earth?”

Relieved that he was able enough to help her divest him of the jacket, she gave him a tender smile. “Medical student,” she confirmed. “Well on my way to being a doctor.”

“You’re friends with him,” he noted with a look down his nose toward the Doctor, who was with another soldier, scalpel in hand to remove something from his leg. “The Lord Doctor.”

“Don’t know that I’d call him a _Lord_ ,” she quipped back with a cheeky smile as she pressed around the edges of the wound. “insufferable git, maybe. But yes, he and I are friends.” She kissed the air. “Well, the older version of him anyway.”

The young Time Lord tried to laugh, but ended up coughing. “Don’t tell me there’s two of him here.”

Her nose turned up in a tease. “Bad for timelines and basically the fate of all of reality, right?” She bit at her lip and looked into his eyes. “I want you to think of something really wonderful,” she advised him. “Something to take your mind off what I’m about to do.”

“What are you going to do?”

“You really don’t want to know,” she admitted. There was something embedded in his shoulder, and she really needed to get it out to assess the damage underneath. “Do you have a wife or a girlfriend?”

“You mean a mate?” he clarified. He then shook his head. “No. I don’t. The ladies I went to the academy with prefer Lords with status – a council member - not a lowly soldier.”

“Well they’re foolish,” she quipped with a smile as she prepared to make this poor lad hurt. “Better to have a partner who can stand up and defend you when needed, then just prattle on nonsense and make everyone else’s lives miserable with their self-serving decisions and demands for tax increases.” She pulled a small knife from her pocket. “Think of something beautiful,” she suggested. “Something amazing. Hold on to that image for just a little while?”

“You’re beautiful,” he said with a soft smile. “I’ll think of you.”

She laughed. “Are all of you Time Lords insufferable flirts?”

“Are we all _what_?” he let out a long yell of agony as Martha stuck the knife deep into his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” she pleaded as she shifted the knife to dislodge the shrapnel lodged in there. “Almost done.”

He wailed a long cry of agony in a breath no human man or woman could ever possess. It was long, pained, and haunting.

And then it stopped. Abruptly,. As the marble-sized metal ball flipped up, and then out of the wound. Martha only watched it flick to the ground for a second before she turned with panic to the young man. Silence was never a good sign, and she hoped beyond all hope that she hadn’t killed the poor lad.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Her words hiccupped to see his lavender eyes open and gazing lazily at her. It wasn’t the stare of death – that she knew all too well – instead it was a gaze of thanks and affection. “Are you okay?”

“I am now,” he said with a look down at his shoulder. Already it was sparkling amber as his body worked fast to repair itself. His eyes moved to hers again. “Thanks to you.”

She blew out a relieved breath, and petted her hand on his chest. “It was my pleasure.”

He covered her hand in his, and lifted his other hand to her head. Soft words in an alien language passed through his lips as he reached upward.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” the Doctor’s voice boomed out angrily from behind Martha’s shoulder. He leaned over and slapped the wandering hand away. “Wrong timeline, young Lord. Not for you to imprint on.” He grabbed Martha by the arm and drew her to a stand, making sure to set her behind him. “Damn sneaky Ceruleans.” 

“She saved me,’ he argued lightly. “And she’s absolutely…” The Gallifreyan words for beauty flew reverently through his lips.

“Yes, indeed,” the Doctor agreed. “But unless you plan to follow this one back to Earth…” He paused at the widening in the young Lord’s eyes. “Nope. Scrap that. Forget I said it.” He led Martha away with one arm across her back, and the other loosely holding her arm.

Martha was highly amused. “What was that about?”

“You almost had a mate of sorts,” he answered her. “He was readying to imprint on you.”

“I’m going to guess that’s not a good thing.”

“Quite the contrary,” he breathed out on a happy breath. “It’s actually quite a beautiful thing. It’s a permanent telepathic link that ensures that no matter the time, the place, or the incarnation, you will know that young Time Lord, and trust him.” He smiled. “Maybe even love him.”

“I met him five minutes ago,” she whispered. “How can I…?”

“You’re welcome,” he said with a smile. He led them both toward another group of men. “I need your help here, Martha. Were nowhere near done yet.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Relief finally arrived at the scene when the first of two cylinders huffed, whined, and dematerialised. One ship finally on its way back to Gallifrey, carrying the heroic dead soldiers to materialise inside an honour guard at the Captiol. The second capsule would depart in only a few moments, her occupants were the survivors – both injured and regenerated. 

The Doctor wiped his hands and forearms on a dirty terrycloth towel as he walked over to where Martha was seated on a rock. Rassilon bless the girl, she was exhausted. Her head was down low in her shoulders and she hung forward over an empty water bottle held in her hands. She was coated in as much blood and mud as he was, and so he grabbed a fresh towel and a waterbottle from one of the medics and walked toward her.

“You were amazing,” he said with pride as he took a seat beside her and handed her the bottle and a towel. “I’m very proud of you.”

She shuddered as she opened the waterbottle and poured it onto her hands. “That was awful,” she admitted sadly. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“And I hope you never have to again,” he breathed out. He lifted his eyes to the horizon, to where the sun was beginning to rise. “We saved some good men today. Sent them home to their families.” He looked to her. “That should give you at least a little peace.”

“I think as many were lost as what we saved,” she said gravely. “Why didn’t they all regenerate?”

“New weapons,” he admitted. “Those that were hit with the new arms, well, they were prevented from being able to produce enough enzyme energy to bring on a regeneration. It’s a frightening thought to know that the Daleks have engineered a weapon like that.”

“Speaking of Daleks,” she said with a worried sigh. “The Doctor and Leela. I’m worried about them. It’s been a couple of hours at least, and we haven’t seen nor heard from them at all.” She looked to him. “Do you think they’re okay?”

“If I know me, and I thinks it’s a safe bet to say that I do,” he bumped her shoulder with his. “Then I think he’ll be okay – your Doctor.” His mouth turned in a smile. “And Leela won’t let anything happen to him. Not without a damn good fight first.”

“Still,” she said. “We should head back over. See if they need our help?”

“We can,” he assured her. “As long as you feel rested enough. What we did here tonight, that must’ve been exhausting. If you need some time…”

“I’m good,” she vowed with a firm nod of her head as she finished wiping her hands and then tossed the towel off to one side. She held her hand to him in a request that he help her to stand. “Let’s go. I’ll feel better when I know the Doctor is okay, and still in one piece.”

He smiled as he brought himself up to a stand and held out his hand to hers. “I am happy to acquiesce to whatever your heart des…” The remainder of that word came out as a spray of orange-crimson blood, that splattered into her face and across her hair.

She was too caught up in surprise to immediately react in any appropriate way to it, but when he swayed, staggered, and then fell to a knee, all she could do was cry out his name in horror.

“Exterminate the Doctor!” A metallic voice commanded over his shoulder. “Exterminate!”

The metal rod moved and shifted toward the Doctor, but before it could fire, there was a zinging sound of heat from behind. Very quickly the metal turned orange and then read and aa large crack opened up along its middle. Then with a cry from inside the machine, the casing exploded. All that was left was a cooked and oozing mess of slime and flesh atop a bubbled pedestal. Behind the pedestal was a lone Time Lord soldier, one arm in a sling, and a large gun teetering awkwardly in the other.

“I think I got him, beautiful,” the Time Lord said with a smile as the gun faltered and then fell from his hand. “But don’t consider us even.” He stumbled, and was immediately caught by another of the Time Lords, who took him back toward the waiting travel capsule.

She should have called out her thanks, but Martha’s panic rendered her unable to do so. With the Doctor down on one knee, swaying and barely conscious, all she could think of was rushing to his aid. His name bellowed with terror from deep inside her chest as she fell to her knees infront of him.

“Doctor! Doctor, what happened?” Her hands flew across his chest, ripping open his shirt, but she couldn’t see where he was hurt. “Doctor, tell me!”

His eyes were wide and pained. There was terror within them as they finally found focus on her. He shook his head. “I- I can’t regenerate,” he told her with fear. 

“Do-do you need to?” she asked in panic. 

“Get the Doctor,” he begged s he faltered completely to one side. “I have to tell him…” His words cut with a cough, and the Doctor fell forward into the dirt.

The sight of his back, and the rapidly spreading bloodstain on his shirt made her scream. It wasn’t a controlled outburst by any means, the sound that left her throat was one that contained multiple emotions, the most obvious of which were devastation, fear, and heartbreak.

A young medic dropped to his knees beside the Doctor, his hands moving swiftly along his back. Less panicked and much more concerned that he was about to lose yet another Time Lord today, the young man called for help.

Martha staggered backward, falling to her arse, and shuffling further away. Her hands flew up to her face to cover her mouth as another scream tore out from inside her.

There was a worried yell of her name from the trees, and she spun with hope. In the arch of the rising sun, she saw his silhouette: Tall, and lean, his thick coat billowing out behind him as he ran. Although completely in shadow, she could imagine his expression: his face lengthened, yet tight with purpose. His eyes wide and wild, his mouth set with his lips stretched open around teeth grit tightly against his hissing breath.

She called out to him, her voice destroyed and defeated.

He was on his knees in the dirt beside her in a second. His hands took hold of her arms and his eyes searched her blood-stained face with fear. “Martha,” he breathed out worriedly. “Rassilon, what happened?”

Her answer of his name was spoken at the same moment that Leela’s horrified voice screeched out the name of her own Doctor.

Ten immediately flicked his head toward Leela, his eyes wide and wild and suddenly very scared. He half pushed Martha out of his hold, using the push to quickly move toward her. “Leela?”

Her eyes were sodden. “By the Gods, Doctor,” she whimpered. “He. He’s dead.” Her head shook. “H-How can he be dead?”

His eyes moved from hers toward the man lying on the dirt. On his hands and knees, he scrambled toward him, faltering in a fall to one side when he saw the man he once was covered in blood and staring lifelessly at nothing.

“No,” he ground out through his teeth. “No! He’s not dead. He can’t be.” 

The medic shook his head at the Doctor. “I’m very sorry, Sir. But. But he’s gone. There’s nothing we can do for him now.”

Leela grabbed the medic by the arm. “He can regenerate,” she growled. “He’s supposed to regenerate. Why isn’t he regenerating?”

The medic was apologetic. He shook his head. “Lady Leela. I am so sorry. The Daleks have new weaponry that stops Time Lords from regenerating.” He looked down to the Doctor. “He got hit with one of those. There’s nothing we can do.”

“You’re wrong,” the Doctor said quietly.

The Medic looked to him with a shake in his head. “I’m very sorry, Sir, but the Doctor. We can’t save him. He’s gone.”

His eyes lifted slowly, full of fire and full of anger. “No, he isn’t.”

“Are you a Doctor, Sir?” the medic asked facetiously ready to remind him to leave it to the professionals.

“I am _the_ Doctor,’ he snarled out darkly, his eyes wild and his lips curled. “Three incarnations from this man. You can’t tell me he’s dead and can’t regenerate, because I’m here, and I’m very much alive, thank you.”

The Medic’s eyes widened and he shuffled backward. “No,” he said with a shake in his head. “This isn’t possible.”

“Oh,” she Doctor sang with a smile turning up one side of his mouth and a slight tic in the shift of his head. “Anything is possible, young Lord. Especially where I’m concerned.”

He shook his hands violently in front of him, flicking them in the air and growling low inside his chest. His growl turned into an impatient snarl, and he almost told his hands to hurry up. They lit up amber and a smile broke across his face. “Yes!” He cheered out. “Brilliant!”

With the Medic gasping in horror to his left, and his two female companions shifting between heartbreak and fear, he moved forward on his knees towards his younger self. He looked at his hands and then set them down on his shoulder to roll him onto his back. 

“You don’t get to die,” he snarled at him. “Not yet. Not when we still have so much to do.”

He put one glowing hand on his chest, and moved the other to his temple. “But I’m going to need your help on this, Doctor.” He shook his head and readied to shift into regeneration. “So Rassilon help me, you’d better still be in there.” He exhaled. “Or we’re both dead.”

His head threw backward and his mouth gaped open. A long cry erupted from deep inside his chest as the full regeneration energies took control over his every cell, burning him from inside out.

“Come on, Doctor,” he called as his mind searched deep inside his. “For Rassilon’s sake, wake up!”

Eight’s eyes snapped open as the amber Lindos energy engulfed them both and the two men became one man. The walls between their minds tore apart, and for a slit second, each man could see deep inside the other – memories, thoughts, fears, and strength. Everything each of them had seen and felt, all of the things they had experienced….

…Even things that were forgotten.

The amber fires grew to a final explosive crescendo to light and with a whoomph and a whoosh, the fires embed out and died. Two men panted uncatchable breaths.

Eight panted, barely able to remain conscious. He coughed into the dirt, but fell backward, quickly falling into slumber.

At his side, his elder self looked upon him with shock and heartbreak. He shook his head with utter disbelief. Although still on his knees, he staggered and stumbled onto a hip, unable to remain upright any longer. His eyes didn’t break from his younger self as he finally fell into the dirt.

Only one word passed through his lips before he passed out completely. It was spoken with pain, with longing, and with desperation and heartbreak.

“Rose.”


	34. Sharing minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Two Doctors don't really like what the other one's mind has to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That is it! I'm done! 
> 
> Three times I've rewritten this one. Three battles of wills, and the chapter beat me every single time!
> 
> Ugh. I give up....
> 
> This represents the end of the Dalek adventure, and where we say goodbye to Ten for now.
> 
> I truly hope you enjoy this, and that I managed to plug up a bit of a hole...
> 
> Thank you all for your comments, you truly are the best!

~~oooOOOooo~~

When he finally came around, the Doctor did so very slowly. He focused on the steady hum of his TARDIS, albeit slightly off key to normal, and the gentle scent of time that drifted through her hallways. His hands moved before the rest of him, slowly fingering at the sheet underneath his naked back and then sweeping his hands left and right. Leela’s sigh, and her relieved call of his name coaxed movements of his eye lids, and although heavy, he slowly blinked them open.

Leela’s face was the first thing he saw. Beautiful though it was, her face was pale and gaunt with worry. Her long dark hair hung limply down over her face and ears, filthy with mud and smoke. He lifted his hand to push her hair behind her ear, and used that momentum to lift himself to a seat.

He let out a very long moan and dropped his face into his palm, lifting his knee to support his below. “Please tell me that whatever truck hit me ended up being hit by lightning and exploding.”

“Dalek,” Martha said kindly to him from the opposite side of the bed to Leela. There was relief in her voice. “And yes. It did end up exploding, courtesy of a _sneaky Cerulean_ with a really big gun.”

“Be wary of _sneaky Ceruleans_ ,” he croaked hoarsely with a smile. “Especially those with _really big guns_.” He dropped his hand from his face and let if fall lazily in front of him, supported only by the elbow still resting on his knee. He looked to the bad beside him, and to his elder self In brown on his back and out of commission. “What happened to _him_?”

Martha’s eyes flicked up at him. “You don’t remember?” She shared a worried look with Leela before looking back at him. “And what he did for you?”

He lifted his hand again and pressed the butt of his palm into the small valley between his brows and the bridge of his nose. “I’m afraid my memory only goes as far back as making the decision to head back to the Arks…” His eyes widened suddenly as a swarm of something new flooded his mind. He breathed out very worriedly. “And as far forward as war, pain, death, and loss.” His other hand came up to press into his eyes. He moaned out, horrified. “And, oh Rassilon, please tell me I’m still unconscious and dreaming.”

“What’s wrong?” Martha asked him worriedly as she cupped her hands either side of his head and coaxed him to look at her. When he didn’t, she physically removed his hand from his eyes and held them down. 

“Neural explosion of sorts,” he muttered with a slow shake in his head. “Nothing pleasant, but nothing particularly dangerous either – depending on how these thoughts and memories got in there.”

“I don’t understand,” she muttered.

“I have new thoughts and memories,” he said with a wince. “And experiences that I’m not yet old enough to have experienced.” He looked to the man on the other bed. “I’m feeling rather confident that these are _his_.”

Leela touched his knee to get his attention. She waited until he was looking at her before speaking. “I suspect you’re right,” she answered. “What he did…”

“What did he do?” he questioned, rising panic in his tone. “And why did he have to do it?”

“You were shot,” Martha began with a wince after a swallow. “By a Dalek. One of their new weapons.”

He shot her a fast look, only now noticing her hair littered with blood, and a smear of orange crimson in her hairline. Obviously she’d done little more than a quick wash of her face since returning o the TARDIS. He lifted his hand to flick off a dry fleck.

“Mine?”

She looked upward, despite being unable to see, and nodded. Her eyes shifted back down to his. “You were hit in the back,” she said softly, the memory of it still clear and choking her voice. “I don’t know for sure exactly what your true injuries were, but they were enough to kill you.”

He watched a tear track down along her cheek, the trail it left behind making it clear that she was still dusty despite washing her face.

“You were gone,” she said with a shudder. “Dead, and you couldn’t regenerate. There was nothing any of us could do.”

“Except him,” Leela offered with a flick of her eyes toward the man on the other gurney. “He knew what to do.”

Martha bit her lip and looked behind her. There was a nod in her head when she looked back to him. “She’s right,” she agreed softly. ‘He knew exactly what to do.”

The Doctor let out a long breath and laid back down on the bed. His knee was still angled high underneath the sheet. “He gave me a regeneration,” he concluded.

“More like kick started your own with his regeneration energy,” Martha offered. “You both look exactly the same as before, and from what I saw on the field, every man who regenerated ended up as someone completely different.”

“We’re supposed to,” he said with a sigh. “So if he was kick-starting my Lindos production with his own, then he also needed to get into my head to make sure that there was enough left in me to complete the healing process.” He rolled his head to look at him. “Which is why my head is full of memories I have yet to experience.” He pressed the butts of his hands into his eyes again. “And I’m very sorry to say that I was quite correct in that I’d need a strong beverage before I went in there. So full of guilt and self loathing.”

“And,” Leela warned him softly. “Very likely his head is now full of _your_ memories…” She let out a huff. “Memories that were _gone_ and that you didn’t want him to see.”

He tore his hands from his eyes, staring widely at the ceiling. “Rassilon…”

“Before he passed out,” she warned. “He did mention your wife’s name. I would suggest that means he saw it all.”

He shook his head and threw back the sheet that covered him. Wearing only a pair of deep grey Boxer briefs not much longer than the lowest rise of his arse, he trotted toward the other bed. He felt the hit of a soft shirt hit his back, and a curse from Leela for him to have some propriety, but ignored it to hover over his elder self.

“Sorry to have to do this to you, old chum,” he murmured under his breath as he lifted his hands to touch fingers at his elder self’s temple. “But those don’t belong to you. At least, not right now… Not until I know why.”

A hand snapped up fast from the bed to snatch a firm hold of the Doctor’s wrist. Angry brown eyes flew open and a lip curled in a sneer. “Don’t you dare.”

“Doctor,” he warned with a wince at the firm hold on his wrist tightening. “You can’t see that.”

“Cant see what?” he sneered, finally releasing the man’s wrist with a shove as he shifted up to a seat on the bed. “That not only am I a husband and a father, but that you’re mated with a woman you don’t even meet until two incarnations from now.” He growled. “The woman I .. That I…” He growled in disgust at his inability to say it. “The woman who holds my hearts and who I thought was lost.”

His eye gave a tick as he flung his legs over the edge of the bed and stepped onto the floor. “No wonder you were so damn curious to know all about _Rose Tyler_ ,” he accused, laying a long lick at the roof of his mouth when saying her last name. “Why you wanted to poke and push me to crack.”

Eight’s eyes darkened. “I had my reasons for that.”

“Oh I bet you did,” he accused with a sneer and a tic in his head. “Wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to rip through reality to come after her, didn’t you?” He leaned forward, challenge and aggression in his eyes. His voice lowered to a dangerous purr. “Well guess what. I’m coming.”

Eight looked fairly unperturbed by the obvious threat. He looked upon his somewhat irrational older self with contempt in his eyes. “Then go right ahead, Doctor. Give it a try. Rip apart all of reality like a deranged love-sick fool. I’ll be waiting for you – oh, you bet I will.”

Ten’s eyes narrowed. A challenge of this nature, oh he was good to give them himself when he knew he’d be the victor, it meant that not everything was quite as hunky-dory as it seemed. So he wisely said nothing.

Eight, however, he wasn’t quite finished. “But you know who won’t be? Rose.” He looked at him with disgust. “She has no desire to see you, Doctor. Not _this_ particular you, anyway.”

Fierceness evaporated almost immediately. “I’m sorry, _what_?”

Eight paced the room wearing only his deep grey boxer briefs, but stood as proud as the term Time Lord would suggest that he should. “Take a good look inside those memories you took from me, Doctor. Don’t just pick and choose the ones you like best. I want you to actually take a good long and hard look at Rose: How she was when she came to me. How she fought against me and my affection, and then ultimately how we fell in love.” He took a stride forward. “And when you’re done, I want you to ask yourself if you deserved her, as you were then, and as you are right now.”

Martha’s face was tight in pain for the man she travelled with. She looked to the younger version of him. “Doctor, really? Don’t be so cruel…”

“No,” Ten muttered gently. “Martha. He’s right.” He looked to both women with weakness in his eyes. “Would the two of you mind please giving us a moment?” He flicked his eyes to Eight and back. “He and I, we really do have some things to discuss.” His eyes then moved to lock onto his younger self. “And I suspect there are some questions you have as well that might be best not discussed in front of the ladies.”

Eight gave a nod. “As a matter of fact, yes. I most certainly do.”

They stood shoulder to shoulder, one man in a pinstriped suit, the other dressed only in his underwear, as the two ladies walked from the medbay of the older TARDIS ship. Once the door closed, they both turned to face each other nose to nose.

“First things first,” Ten gruffed out darkly. He took a step back and flicked his hand toward the bed. “For Rassilon’s sake, put on some clothes. “I really don’t need the ability to make comparisons.”

Eight sniffed with a smirk as he snatched a t-short off the bed and pulled it up over his head. “Compare away,” he murmured. “I’m confident in what I’ve got.” 

“Which is Rose,” Ten breathed out. “ _My_ Rose Tyler.”

Eight paused pulling his shirt over his belly for just a moment. He wasn’t quite expecting to have to go into it all so quickly. He rather fancied a spar of words first. “Yes,” he admitted as he finally smoothed the shirt down over his belly. “For now, yes I do.”

“And she hates me.”

Eight folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. “Again, stop picking and choosing what you want to see. I think if you take a moment to actually filter through it all, then you’ll find that how she feels for you is very much the opposite.”

He leaned his rump against the edge of the mattress, crossing his legs at the ankle, and stuffing his hands into his pockets. There was a slight downward tilt to his head as his eyes traced a low cabinet door across the room. “She compared me to Jimmy Stone.” Those last two words were uttered with disgust – and emotion mirrored by the lift of his lip and the wince in his eye. “One of the very few Humans I’ve encountered that actually fit the description of a filthy unevolved ape.”

“From my understanding of him,” Eight concurred. “I agree with that assessment.” He looked to his elder. “I will also hope that, after your were told about that particular cretin, that you found a way to sneak into his timeline to kick his arse.”

“With thicker boots than my converse,” he confirmed with a snort kick of one foot that quickly found its way back to cross in front of the other ankle. “I did _indeed_ , which is why I find that comparison so reprehensible.”

“But is it, though?” he asked with a tilt in his head. “I mean, yes. That fool was quite reprehensible, as are his actions. But were yours really so different.” He held up his hand. “And do remember, Doctor, that what you took from me, I also took from you.” He smiled. “Right now you and I – we’re the very same mind.”

“Which is rather terrifying,” he had to admit.

“For so many reasons,” Eight sighed. “By the stars, Doctor. What did you do? What did _Rassilon_ do?”

He shook his head. “What we had to do, Doctor. What was necessary.” He looked away. “To end it.”

“She’s not there,” he remarked sadly. “For any of it.” He looked down. “Which is probably for the best, of course. She and our son, they shouldn’t be there.”

He nodded with agreement. Then he shook his head. “But where is she?” His eyes were wide and horribly confused. “I can’t see anything between right now, and in seven years from now, when you tear off from the Time Vaults on Gallifrey and meet Charley.”

Eight’s eyes briefly widened as that memory flashed in his mind – a relationship with another woman – one that was not his wife.

Ten’s hands lifted to fist at his hair. He let out a growl of frustration. “Why is it missing? Why can’t I see anything? Even a memory block will leak from time to time and give me something: Hope, fear, loss, anything.” He shook his head, his hands still in his hair. “But that whole period of time is a void. There’s nothing there. Nothing!”

“Gone completely,” Eight agreed with a crease in his brow. “Not blocked. Gone.”

“Impossible,” Ten seethed. “Noone has the telepathic power to do that. No matter how strong the block, there’s always residue left from any memory. Always.”

“At least you have it now,” Eight offered. 

“But I won’t have her,” he concluded with a long sigh. He caught the look from his younger self and shrugged. “The gap spans almost ten years, Doctor. How many of those have you actually had with her?”

“Three,” he whispered.

He nodded. “Another seven unaccounted for.” He walked to the middle of the room, crossed his legs at the ankle, and spun himself in a twirl to sit on the floor.

Eight frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Concentrating,” he answered with a huff as he crossed his legs and pressed his elbows into his knees. He covered his face in his hands and blew out a long breath. “Trying to see if I can make sense of it.”

Eight shrugged and walked over to where he was seated. With a sigh, he dropped down onto the floor, his back to his elder self, and adopted the same seated position. “I don’t think we’re supposed to try.”

“Don’t tell me not to try.”

“I’m not. I’m saying that perhaps we aren’t supposed to.”

Ten actually laughed. “Since when do either of us do as we’re told?”

“Not even when we’re telling each other,” he agreed with his own soft laugh. He straightened up his back and leaned backward a little. It wasn’t too far of a lean before his back was pressed up against Ten’s. His elder self straightened up himself, and in a moment both men were back to back, and the cross of their knees shifted position. Both of them raised their knees to push themselves back more firmly against the other.

“I hate you,” Ten admitted quietly.

“I know.”

“But I’m really starting to hate myself more.”

Eight turned his head slightly, looking down his shoulder as though trying to look behind himself at the man muttering about self hatred. “And why’s that.”

“Now I can see how much I hurt her,” he acknowledged painfully. “What I did to her to drive her into your arms.”

“She put herself there,” he corrected. “You had nothing to do with it.”

“But she wouldn’t have run to you if I wasn’t being such a half-cocked git in the first place.” His head flicked to one side, meeting Eight’s cheek with his own. “My hearts beat for her, Doctor. I don’t understand why I did that to her. Why I lost my ability to treat her with any of the love and respect I had for her.” He huffed. “I always gave her just enough to keep her hoping, but never enough to make her stay. And now I don’t think she ever wants to see me again..”

“You never know,” he said softly. “It’s easy to say you never want to see someone again. Words are just words, right? But I think if she did get the chance to see you again, she’ll …”

“If she had to choose,” he interrupted. 

“Well maybe you should use this newfound knowledge of yours and grow up a little. Figure out how to earn back what you lost.” He flicked his chin to the door. “Rassilon, man. If the way you treat Martha is anywhere near close to how you treated Rose, then///”

“I get it!” he barked out. “I’m not a nice person. Tends to happen when you’ve suffered trauma after trauma and loss after loss.” He huffed. “It’s not like you behave any better yourself, so stop with this incessant judging of my actions when you’ve been very guilty of…” He turned abruptly, rising up onto his knee to dig a knuckle into his younger self’s back. “I’m about to yell at you, so turn around.”

He did as asked and faced his elder self with a tired expression. “What is it?”

“You dare to judge me, when you’ve pulled the shittiest move of any one of us – and that’s saying something when you consider all of the irresponsible and irrational stuff we’ve done to now.”

He held up his hands. “ Look…”

“Don’t you tell me to _look_ , Doctor,” he snapped in reply. “You took away my companion. One who – granted – was having a wee bit of an emotional crisis at the time…”

“Hardly _wee_ ,” he corrected. “But carry on.”

“And rather than being a gentleman and bringing her home to her correct timestream – and her appropriate Doctor – you took her to Gallifrey, set up a home, married her, and started a family.” He snarled. “And worse, you let me believe she was dead.”

“She didn’t want to go home,” he replied with a tired and quiet sigh. “To you, nor to London. But you already know all this,” he growled impatiently. “Stop trying to make excuses.” He lifted his eyes to the ceiling. He filtered through the memories on his own. “Tell me about Bad Wolf,” he managed finally.

“What about her?” He was clearly frustrated. “As you’ve already told me – look at my memories, yourself. It’s all there.”

Eight closed his eyes and searched. After a moment, he opened his eyes and let out a small hum. “Your ability to show her your love for her _after_ the appearance of the Bad Wolf, correct?”

“Yeah,” he drawled. “After I regenerated.” He inhaled deeply, holding that breath for a long moment. “I took the energy in time from Rose – the power of the Bad Wolf – and sent it back into the TARDIS. As a result of all that power destroying all my cells, one at a time, I regenerated.”

“Have you ever wondered just why it was that the energy killed you, but it didn’t hurt Rose?”

Ten snorted. “If you’re about to tell me that she’s now some immortal being thanks to Bad Wolf, then I’ll punch you.” He thumbed at his nose. “I did check on that, by the way. No. Still Human.”

He hummed and shook his head. “Very, very much Human,” he confirmed. He then let out a long sigh. He had plenty of speculative thoughts in his mind about just what may have set this course in action, but nothing concrete enough to analyse it too closely. His head hung between his shoulders. “What I’ve seen, Doctor. Well I have to admit. I’m scared,”

“You get through it and survive,” Ten said with a sigh. “I’m living proof that you survive the war. _Well_ , if you can call _this_ surviving of course. Which I suppose it is. It’s certainly not _living_ as much as existing.”

“I don’t want to forget her,” he said sadly. “Or our son. I don’t understand why it has to happen.”

“Probably has something to do with the fixed point,” he said with a slight lift in his cheek. “Something about it makes you have to hide her away, not only from the war, but from ourself, too.”

“If I send her away,” Eight admitted. “Then I’m sending her to you. I’m not locking her away anywhere.”

“Well, obviously you did,” Ten charged angrily. He tapped at his head. “Otherwise I’d remember it, wouldn’t I?”

“Again. I don’t have telepathic ability powerful enough to rip something like this from our heads where it can never be found.” He blew out a breath of annoyance that shifted quickly to apology. “But I do have the power to lock it away from you now.”

“I know,” he whispered with a wince. 

“I’m sorry.”

He winced in an expression of apology, himself. “And you know that I have to take it away from you as well,” he warned him. “I can’t leave the knowledge of what’s coming in your mind. Although at least for _you_ , not so hard a loss as it is for me.” 

“You’re right,” he said. 

Ten closed his eyes and leaned his head back against his elder’s head. “Just. Please don’t take it all away. Leave me with _something, anything_ to give me hope.”

“Until I know why it is we can’t remember her, Doctor, what entity was able to take her from us like that, and Rassilon’s robes, it could be anything.” He cleared his throat with a cough against his fist. “Until we know for sure, I can’t leave you with anything.” 

“how about If I promise you that I won’t come for her?”

That made him grin a wide smile. “You say that like you think I can trust you. Which we both know I can’t. What does Brax call us? Sneaky? Can’t be trusted?”

“Never have truer words been spoken,” he growled. He lifted his hand toward his younger self’’s temple. “Well. Best we get this over with, yeah? Neither of us will allow the other to remember, right?”

“Right,” he agreed. “Back to where we were, then.”

“Right.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

They couldn’t hear anything behind the closed door of the med bay, although both of them tried desperately to hear. So far they’d employed several methods to hear what went on behind closed doors, but alas, the TARDIS and her own sneaky ways refused to allow them to hear. They were about to give up completely when the door finally hissed open and both men appeared, safe, and unharmed.

Eight, who was still attired in his undergarments, had one brow raised high as he looked over two women doing their all to look as perfectly innocent as possible.

“Hear anything interesting?” he queried flatly.

“Nothing,” Leela admitted with a slump. “This TARDIS is as tricky as yours it, Doctor…”

“They’re the same TARDIS,” Ten mused with a smirk as he led the group on a walk toward the console room. 

“I know that,” she managed to say without appearing too embarrassed. “Anyway. She wouldn’t let us listen in.”

Martha smiled. “So if the two of you would like to be real darlings, feel free to fill us in.”

Eight looked toward his older self. “I’ll let you field that one from your companion. Me…” He looked toward Leela. “I’m not saying a word about it.”

The console room of Ten’s ship made Eight’s hearts fall. As beautiful as she was, the old girl was definitely down to bare bones. “Oh, darling,” he breathed out affectionately as he stroked a column of coral. “I’m so sorry.”

“She’ll recover in time,” Ten suggested with a rock on the back of his heels. “For now, though, I love it. Who needs expensive makeup, contouring, highlighting and false lashes? This girl is perfectly beautiful a’la natural.”

“That she is,” Eight agreed with a smile to the ceiling. The smile fell and he looked down to his elder self. “When out TARDISes dematerialise, the memory blocks will take effect.”

“I know,” Ten said with a firm nod. “If I can give you anything at all, Doctor, then I say this: It will have an end, and you will survive. When it’s through you’ll meet the love of your lives…”

“And then I’ll lose her,” he added with a sad smirk. He shook his head. “What I have to look forward to as you.”

Ten leaned forward. “Then do whatever you can to make yourself better.” He tipped his head to Martha. “Having companions helps with that.” He smiled at her. “Especially when they’re brilliant.”

Eight put an arm across Martha’s shoulder and pressed an affectionate kiss to her forehead. He looked down at her with a tender smile. “Good bye Martha Jones. I look forward to meeting you in my future. Look after this fool, please.”

“I will, I promise. And you … you take care.” She looked to Leela as the Doctor walked to the door of the TARDIS. “You, are so awesome I don’t even know where to begin.”

“And you, Martha Jones,” she sang out with a wave as she followed. “Remember, Castration by knifepoint!”

Martha let out a long laugh as the door closed behind them, and the Doctor – her Doctor – set the coordinates for departure. Her voice softened to concern. “Doctor?”

“Yes, Martha.”

“Is everything going to be okay, with him?”

“Of course it will,” he answered back very matter of factly. “Why wouldn’t it?”

“The Time War,” she questioned. “He knows about it now.”

“Oh, nah,” he drawled out, not looking up from the monitor. “Simple telepathic memory redaction. Easy peasy flick of the fingers piece of cake for us Time Lords. When he takes off, he won’t remember a thing.” His eyes widened. “Well. Except one little tiny piece of information that won’t threaten all of reality…”

“Doctor?”

“And, well. Serve him right, really.” He looked up to the rotor column, and not at Martha. “I don’t see why he should get off so easy.”

“What did you do?” Martha asked worriedly.

“I may have left a little piece in there,” he admitted, finally looking down at her. He held his thumb and second finger slightly apart and winced as though trying to focus. “Just a tiny little snippet. Microscopic, really. Nothing even to worry about.”

“Doctor?” her voice was not a warning. “What did you leave him with.”

His eyes shifted to hers. “I left him with the knowledge that his time with Rose now has a time limit on it. Like the sands through the hourglass….”

Martha’s eyes shot open wide. “That’s horrible?”

“No,” he argued softly as he flicked up the dematerialisation lever. “It’ll make him cherish every moment he has left.” He smiled as the column rose and fell, whined and wheezed. “That’s my girl, off we go, then. Allonsy!”

“Doctor,” Martha cried out in shock. “How could you do that to him?”

“I’m sorry?” he answered back with genuine confusion in his gaze. “Do what to who?”

“Him!” she yelped gesturing to the door with both hands. 

He hook his head, and looked at the door with a brow lifted high on his forehead. “I’m sorry, Martha. Who?”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Eight and Leela stepped aboard his TARDIS. Behind him he heard the dematerialisation of the older TARDIS, and knew that for now, Rose was safe with him, and there’d be no threat of a sneaky Prydonian Time Lord breaking through the walls of reality to get to them.

He blew out a breath of relief and set coordinates for his own machine to take off. “Gad that’s over with. Straight to your home, Leela?”

She nodded. She then walked around the console and looked him straight in the eye. “What did you leave him with?” she asked him without hedging the topic.

“What makes you think I left him with anything.”

She tipped a shoulder up to her ear. “Because I know you. And I know that if it concerns Rose, you’ll have every plan in place to make sure she’s safe and taken care of.”

“I’ve sealed the memory of her,” he said. “As I should have done.”

“But?”

He smiled on one side of his mouth. “But it’s not gone. Not completely. It’s just, locked away for now.”

“And how does she unlock it,” she asked him, knowing him far too well to have to question him any further about his intentions. “When they meet again?”

He lifted his eyes to hers. “What makes you think they will?”

“Because I can hear your heart breaking from here,” she said softly. “You think that one day she’ll have to return to Earth, and quite likely therefore to him.” She pressed her hand into his chest. “So how does she unlock his memories of her?”

“My name,” he answered her softly. “She only has to speak my name.” He flicked up the dematerialisation lever and looked up at the column as it rose up and down, whining and wheezing. There was a flicker in his mind and behind his eyes. He shook his head, looked toward Leela and offered her a look of apology.

“I’m very sorry Leela. What were we talking about again?”


	35. Eight and Jackie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackie and Eight have a little heart to heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy hump day!
> 
> Not much to say on this chappy except ... Fluff ... hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Thanks for all of your wonderful comments, I truly appreciate them all!!

~~oooOOOooo~~

It was sunsdown on Gallifrey when Rose and her entourage arrived at the home she shared with the Doctor after a long few of days in hospital. A very long and busy couple of hours – despite being forced to stay in bed for the entire duration of her hospital stay.

If she wasn’t feeding her newborn, then she wasn’t holding him. No one would let her. Between Romana, Brax, her mother, and the nursing staff that worked with the Doctor all wanting to hold him and coo lovingly at him, she hadn’t gotten a chance at all for a quiet cuddle. It was her hope, now that she was home, to finally get that cuddle time…

…If it meant that she had to tell her wolves to stand guard and growl at anyone who dared try to get near her, then by the rule of Rassilon, she’d do it.

Speaking of her beautiful blue-white fur babies. She hadn’t seen them since arriving at the hospital nearly three days ago. Romana had sent some of her guard staff to feed them, and the reports from those who had Dahrama-caused torn clothing upon their return, the pair were doing quite nicely. She was very eager to see them.

And apparently that feeling was mutual. Upon exiting the small red short-hop travel capsule, she was immediately accosted by two very excited wolves. Both of them jumping and pouncing on her while whining and barking like a pair of over excited dogs. She was glad at that juncture, that her newborn was safely within her mother’s arms.

“Hey kids,” she greeted as she stooped down into a crouch. She closed her eyes and took their licks on her cheeks with as little wincing as possible. “I missed you too.”

“Are you sure they’re safe to have around the baby?” Jackie asked cautiously, holding the precious little bundle up higher than was comfortable.

“Perfectly safe,” Romana assured her calmly. “Whilst considered an extremely dangerous species, the Dahrama are very pack orientated and will protect each member with its own life.” 

“Are you suggestin’ that my daughter and grandbaby are members of a pack?” Jackie barked incredulously. She looked to the animals. “ _Their_ pack?”

“I’m not suggesting it, Jackie,” Romana answered with a shrug. “It’s a fact.”

“I’m not so much thinkin; that’s a good…”

“Oh Mum,” Rose interrupted with a sigh. She was still in a crouch, and her wolves were still excitedly jumping around her. They’d calmed considerably, but were still excited. “I’m happy to be considered part of their _pack_.” Her head suddenly shot upward as the whine and wheeze of the TARDIS sounded out from inside the house. His name flew her lips with relief, and she didn’t spare a second thought before jumping to her feet and running to the door.

“Oh well,” Jackie said with a friendly huff to the newborn in her arms. “Looks like your daddy’s home, little bean. But if he’s thinkin’ for a second he’s going to take you away from me, then he’s got another thing coming. Hasn’t he? Oh yes, he does – because you’re all mine, darling..”

Romana gave Jackie a small dip of the head in a short bow of goodbye. “If the Lords Doctor is home, then I should best leave myself.”

“You really don’t have to,” Jackie assured her.

Braxiatel slid his arms across his wife’s shoulder and yawned into his fist. “We really best be off. Tell Thete and Rose that we’ll stop by in a day or so to check in on them.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Rose was almost full run as she burst through the front door of the home. For once, she was thankful to have a house that was sentient like the TARDIS. She didn’t’ have to fiddle around looking for her keys, that door flew open as though by mental command. She didn’t even kick her shoes off at the door, such was her hurry. She ran, in runners made by skilled artisans in the market, along the wooden floor that did not slip or skid when she tried to stop. Instead those soles took hold, propelling her forward into a fall against the still-materialising Blue Police box.

Fortunately for her shoulder, which looked to where she would take the greatest hit, the door opened quickly. Her fall was caught by a pair of strong – and surprisingly naked – arms.

“Steady now,” he said with a chuckle. “I take it you missed me?”

She let herself fall heavily into those rms of his. “Always there to catch me, aren’t you?”

“Like I promised,” he vowed with a whisper before he pressed his lips lightly to hers in greeting. The light kiss quickly turned more passionate. He shifted the angle of his head to deepen their connection and pulled her up against his chest, lifting her feet from the floor so that the tips of her shoes dragged across the wood as he walked them away from his TARDIS.

“Oi, you two,” Jackie called out with humour masked as anger. “That’s about enough of that behaviour, thank you.”

Rose pulled from him before he felt any kind of need to separate from her. She pulled her head back, and dodged his seeking lips with a press of her hand against his chest. “Sorry, Mum.”

He moaned when she pulled out of his arms and slouched slightly. “I was just saying hello.”

Jackie looked him up and down, her brow lifted at the sight of him in only a light T-shirt and his boxers. “Just saying _hello_ indeed,” she huffed with a point at his lower half. “You’re already half undressed and all.” She held up her hand before he could make a comment. “Oh, don’t start tryin’ to defend yourself. I was your age once,” she quipped. “And a newlywed. I know how it is when you’ve been apart for a bit – all eager to get back in the sack and make up for lost time.”

“Mum!”

“Well let me tell you one thing, Mister,” she continued with a point of her finger at him. “She’s off limits for the next lil’ while. You hear me? None of your alien sex games for at least the next six weeks.”

Rose moaned into her hand. “Mum, Please…”

“Don’t’ you _mum please_ me, madam.” She looked back to the Doctor, shifting her eyes down low and very slowly raking them back up to his eyes, which were looking upon her very tiredly. “She’s had some rather nasty stretching and controtin’ happenin’ down there, and it’s gonna take some time for her to heal up.” She lifted her nose. “I don’t care what you’re packing in your trousers, Doctor, and how big it is or isn’t. With all she’s gone through – a watermelon out of a hole the size of a cherry – well, right now you probably wouldn’t even touch the sides, that’s how much it’s been stretched out.”

As disgusted and embarrassed as she was, Rose couldn’t help but expel a laugh at that. When she did, it was with a spit and a howl. “Jesus, Mum,” she howled out. “Was _that_ necessary?”

“I’m just lettin’ him know, love,” she assured her daughter with a loving smile. “Nothin’s gonna feel right over the next bit, and I want to make sure himself realises that.”

“I vow to you,” the Doctor said with a well shielded smile. “That there will ne no form of …” he chuckled. “ _Alien sex games_ occurring between now and the moment that Rose is able to resume marital relations.” He leaned in to speak to her as much as to look upon his child who slept in her arms. “And just so we are clear, Jackie Tyler: Here on Gallifrey, you’re the alien. Not me.”

“You’ve also never been his age before,” Rose added. She slid her arms around the Doctor’s torso, purring when his arm moved across her shoulder to hold her close. “Isn’t he beautiful?”

“Perfect,” he replied breathlessly. “Just like his mother.”

The little one opened his eyes. Blinked at his father, hiccupped, and then opened his mouth and let out a shrill squeal.

“Uh-oh,” Jackie warned. “Looks like the little bean is hungry again.” She handed the child off to Rose, who was already loosening her blouse. “And it looks like you’re more than ready to feed.”

Rose moaned. “Yeah, been ready for a while now.” She took her baby into her arms and leaned up to kiss her husband on the side of his mouth. “Give us a moment, Doctor. I want to hear all about your trip, but…” She tipped her head to the wailing infant.

“He needs to be fed,” the Doctor agreed. “He’s more important. We can talk later,”

Jackie, now with hands free and no clue what to do with them, folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot on the ground. “Then how about, while she’s still busy lookin’ after your baby, you and I have a little chat?”

He rubbed at the back of his neck. “If it has anything further to do with what your daughter and I prefer to remain private between just the two of us, then I’m really not quite in the mood for it right now.”

She shook her head. “No, you plum. I trust you to do what’s right with her.” She looked to the doorway, and then back to him. “He’s a hungry lil one, and so she’ll be a while. I’ll go make us some tea. How about you put some clothes on, and meet me in the back.”

“Really, Jackie…”

  
“That’s not a request,” she growled. “You get dressed and meet me out back.”

“Yes, Mum,” he drawled facetiously.

“That’s right,” she snapped back. “I _am_ your mum now.” She threw her head back with a laugh. “Oh, I wish I knew about this with big ears and leather….”

~~oooOOOooo~~

He took his sweet time getting dressed. If not just for being tired, it was to try and settle this heavy pit inside his stomach. It was a feeling of foreboding and dread like he’d never felt inside before.

Was that what having to face a discussion with his mother in law could do to him?

He’d heard legends on Earth about it. About the dreaded mother in law. Often described as the single most fearsome being in the universe, and dangerous to boot.

But, he was the Doctor: the Oncoming Storm. He could certainly deal with a tiny human woman.

He puffed up his chest and made a purposeful stride toward the back entrance of his home. He made sure to detour to where his wife nursed their hungry son, and dropped a kiss against her mouth. “My hearts beat for you,” he whispered with fierce honestly.

“I love you too,” she sang back at his stoic and stiff retreating form. “Don’t be scared of her, Doctor.”

“I’m not.”

He passed through the door, onto a wood deck, and dropped down onto a comfortable cushioned seat across from Jackie. The Blonde firecracker lifted her eyes to him as she slid across a mug filled with tea. “I won’t often say this to you, Doctor. But don’t listen to her.”

“What do you mean.”

“I mean that you should be very scared of me right now.”

He blinked at her with disbelief, and with a certain measure of arrogance. He lifted the mug to his lips at kissed at the edge of it. “I don’t fear a Dalek. Tell me what makes you more frightening than them.”

She didn’t look up at him, instead she made a show of looking down at her mug as she fixed her own mug of tea. “I don’t much know what a Dalek is,” she began. “So I can’t begin to comment on that.” Her eyes lifted. “But I will tell you this: You hurt one hair on her head, Doctor. You make her cry a single tear because you’re bein’ a git. You break her heart … and I don’t care what planet you’re on, I will find you, and I will neuter you in ways you’d never imagine.” 

“I see,” he answered with a clearing of his throat after a light choke on his tea. “I’ve no doubt that…”

“Liquid Nitrogen and an icepick,” she interrupted to clarify. “While you’re awake and all to watch it break apart piece by piece. And if you want, I’ll invite one of these Daleks along to watch and take notes.”

“threat noted,” he half squeaked out. He sucked down a large draw from the tea, wincing at the heat of it at the back of his throat. “And it’s my greatest desire not to let it happen, Jackie. I assure you of that.”

“I’d hope so,” she replied as she leaned back into her chair and took in the surroundings of an alien planet. “My God, this is beautiful, isn’t it?”

He lifted his head to look across the forest that backed onto their back yard. Tall white barked trees with silver leaves that tinkled with the cool breeze from the mountains off in the distance. The setting suns cast a wash of colour across the sky that was slowly turning the deep, dark shade of orange that was their night sky. Already he could see the twinkling lights of stars so many millions of light years away from them.

“Indeed,’ he agreed with a long sigh. “It is. Very much so.” He let out a breath. “And until I saw it through Rose’s eyes, I never appreciated it for what it was.”

“She does that,” Jackie noted proudly. “My baby can see beauty in even the most repulsive of things. It’s one of the things that’s so special about her. Like her dad in that regard. That man, irritating though he could be, he had stars in his eyes…”

“Rose doesn’t speak much about him.”

Jackie shook her head. “She was a baby when he died. Not even past her first birthday, but he loved her, he did. Besotted from the moment he first saw her.” She looked down and smiled with a shake in her head. “Damn fool, first thing he said when he saw her is that for the first time in his life he truly believed in innocence.”

He frowned. “Seems like an awfully strange thing to say.”

“Nah,’ she drawled. “That was ‘im. Had it rough, he did. Not an easy upbringin’, and not an easy time of it after he married me. But he always meant well.”

He nodded, but said nothing.

“She said you took her back to meet him, once.” She sighed. “After you sent her home to me, all cryin’ and lost worried about you.” Another sigh. “She was so mad at you, but me, I loved you for it. Send her home to me because it was too dangerous for her where you were.” Desperate to get back to you, she was. Damn near had a fit. I wasn’t going to help her. Figured you wouldn’t send he back if it wasn’t a life or death thing.” She lifted her eyes to the sky. “But then she told me. Told me that you took her to her Dad, and that he’d help her go back if he was still around.”

There was a pause, and a tear fell from her eye.

“And how could I argue it?”

“You’re her mother,” he ventured. “You’re supposed to.”

“And he was her dad,” she countered. “Rose was right. Pete would’ve helped her, no thought for anything except makin’ her happy.” She looked to him. “So I did. I helped her. Grabbed a truck and let her rip open that ship of yours.” She looked down. “Felt like an eon before she came back. When she did, it was with a new you … and her ‘eart was broken all over again.”

“Regeneration,” he admitted. “Must’ve been a shock to you.”

“Course it was,” she barked. “My kind don’t do that kind’ve thing. If they did, maybe Pete’d still be around.” She set her mug on the table. “But what I’m getting’ at, Doctor, but tellin’ you this…” She waited until he looked at her. “Is that he did the right thing, that Doctor. He knew where they were right then was hopeless. He knew that he had to bring my little girl home, and he did.”

He nodded. He knew where this was going.

“And I expect you to do the same thing,” she told him firmly. “The life you and her have, the travellin’. It’s dangerous, I know it. I’ve been there and seen it for myself. I want you to promise me that no matter what, if she and my grandbaby are in danger, you need to send them home to me.”

He nodded and relaxed a little in the chair. He considered her words and found himself agreeing with it 100 percent. “I can make a promise to you, Jackie, that Rose and I won’t be travelling any time soon. Not with a new baby, and hopefully with one or two new ones in the near future. But if there is ever a need to do it, I vow to you that I will do everything in my power to make sure that Rose and our child or children will come home to you.”

“You may have to fight her on it, Doctor,’ she warned him. “My Rose is a right madam when she get’s her head on something. You need to promise me that no matter what level of tantrum she throws over it, that you won’t cave.”

“Then you’ll have to promise not to help send her back,” he challenged her. “If I send her to you, you can’t send her back to me… If I can, I’ll come for them.”

Her hands shook slightly as she lifted her mug to her mouth to take a sip of her tea. “I might come across as somethin’ fierce,” she said softly. “Like I don’t give a sod, and nothing’ll hurt me. Not much can, I’ll be honest with you on that…”

“But she can,” he ventured softly. “If nothing else, she can.”

Jackie nodded. “I’ve already had to face it.” Tears fell from her eyes. “I’ve already had to hear you tell me that my baby is gone, and Doctor, it damn near killed me.” Her mug was set back onto the table, and she flattened her palm on the cool wood as though seeking stability from it. “Right before you send that boy to come for me. Your pin-striped self came ‘round. He told me he’d lost my baby, and she was never comin’ back.”

“Rassilon,” he breathed apologetically. “I’m so sorry.”

“A mother shouldn’t outlive her child,” Jackie continued. “We’re supposed to watch ‘em grow, marry, and have lil’ones of their own.” Her eyed, sodden and red, shifted to his. “And he told me that I’d never have that chance. I’d never get to see my baby have a baby and be really, truly happy.” She sniffed wetly. “I thought I’d failed as a mum, that I failed her.”

“No, no,” he pleaded. He shifted his hand to cover hers. “You haven’t failed anyone – least of all Rose.”

She didn’t shake off his hand. She just shook her head and looked down at the tabletop. “I’ve not been the best mum,” she admitted sadly. “Couldn’t give her all that she wanted.”

“You gave her what was important, though,” he offered. He leaned across the table and tenderly hooked her hair over her ear. “You gave her the fiercest kind of love that very few of us in the universe get to have. She is who she is because of you, she loves like she does because she was shown how to … by _you_.”

She chuckled. “My, but you are a smooth one,” she said softly. “I can see why she fell for you. All good looks and tender words.”

“And I love her just as much,” he promised her. 

“I know you do,” she said with a smile. “Old leather and big ears you did too, Worshipped the ground she walked on, he did. Ready to risk the whole planet just to protect her. Died for her too, I heard.”

“The most honourable of deaths,” he said with a smile. “And I’d willingly do it again.”

“Easy to say when you have lives to give,” she said with a shrug. “Thing is, she don’t have extra lives at her disposal, but you bet if it was you or her, and she had the choice – she’d put it on the line for you, as well.” She huffed. “And that scares me.”

“I’ll never let that happen.”

“We don’t always have the choice,” she argued. “Crunch comes, and it all depends on who’s the one gettin’ to make the choice.” Her breath shook. “Don’t let her die for you, Doctor. Call me selfish if you want…”

“I won’t,” he vowed. “That’s the one and only choice I will ever take from her, Jackie. I promise you.” He looked down into his lap. “Call me selfish as well, but I know that there is no way I could possibly imagine carrying on in a universe where I don’t have her at my side.”

“Yet one day you will,” she said with a sigh. She hooked her hair behind her ear. ‘You didn’t know her before Leather and ears,” she remarked. “Sure, you met her then and fell in love with her. But you lost her before that, and now pinstriped you, well he doesn’t have her, either.” Her brow pinched in the centre. “How the Hell does that even work. For God’s sake bein’ you must be confusin’.”

He chuckled. “Surprisingly, no.”

“For you and your kind, maybe not,” she huffed. “But for boring old human me, it’s absolutely out there.” Her amusement shifted back to worry. “But anyway, as I was sayin’. The you that had to tell me that my baby was gone – he doesn’t have my Rose anymore. And as far as I know he’s carryin’ on livin’.”

He shook his head. “Surviving, perhaps,” he said softly. “Living a life day to day without the one he loves, I can’t say that’s living.” He looked to her. “Could you see it in him?” he asked. “That he loved her?”

“Head over arse,” she told him. “Never seen a man broken like that before, hope never to see it again if I’m bein’ honest.”

“Good to know,” he breathed out quietly.

“What, that you end up alone with a broken heart?” She shook her head at the notion. “You are one vry strange man, Doctor.”

“No,” he corrected softly. “Not at all. Quite frankly, the thought of ending up that way absolutely terrifies me. My hearts break to think about it.”

“Then why’s it a good thing?”

“Because if I ever need to,” he told her sadly. “At least I know I have someone willing to be there for her, and love her as I do.”

Jackie huffed. “Yeah. Easy for you, maybe. But Rose, well. She might have different ideas on that.” She leaned an elbow on the table. “She spends her life with you – this you – Doctor. What makes you think it’ll be easy for her to move on with another you?”

“Because she loved _that_ me before she loved _this_ me.” To him it sounded perfectly simple. “And because he _is_ me.”

“And from what she told me when we both started cryin’ after I tore her several shreds for her bein’ here and waitin’ so long to reach out to me. He hurt her.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“And none of this is as easy as you be thinkin’ it is.” She leaned back in her seat and kicked her legs out in a stretch, crossing her legs at the ankle. “She may look tough, but my Rose is a tender heart. Yeah, she’s loved three of you now, and I reckon she’ll love any more of you that come along.” She looked at him. “But he broke her heart, and he broke it good.”

“Whether or not she accepts his love,” he affirmed. “If it comes to it, and I ever have to send her back to Earth for whatever reason. Then let me promise you this: He will be there for her no matter what.”

“Yeah, well make sure he knows that a winning lotto ticket aint conna cover off his responsibility,” she warned him. “He’s gotto do more than that -and she’s gonna need it. Alien baby and all that. He won’t do any good at an Earth hospital with two hearts and whatever else you gave him.”

“Let’s just hope it won’t come to that, Jackie.” He swallowed thickly. “I want her to be with me for the rest of her life – which, if she stays here with me on Gallifrey, will be as close to forever as I can hope for.”

“I’m not going to pretend to know what you’re on about,” she said with a shrug. “But promise me that you’ll drop round from time to time. Let me see my baby and her babies grow up.”

“I promise you,” he said with a smile of teasing. “Mum…”

She couldn’t help but smile at that as she leaned back in her chair and looked into the dark orange night sky. “Madam should be done shortly with the little bean. Then maybe, you can properly meet your son and tell us about the adventure that too you away from him.”

“My Adventure,” he breathed out with a crease in his brow. “Yeah. I seem to have misplaced my memories on that one.”

He gave him a dark look of challenge. “Yeah, well bein’ that you came home wearing only your underthings, I think it’s in your best interests to remember, don’t you?”


	36. Oops!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is what happens Dad's away and a precocious Time Lad gets curious and tries to goad his mother....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Human Nature really is one of my favourite ideas to play about with. Oh, not necessarily the actual setting from the show, but the whole idea of the Doctor having to turn human and basically ending up, well, anywhere.
> 
> I wanted him to end up somewhere other than Farringham this time around... I know , I know, this isn't canon .. but neither's this fic ... and that's what's so great about fanfiction... 
> 
> Anyway! In case you're wondering, yes, this has a purpose. I'm not just writing it because I quite like the idea and want to play.... this is something our girl needs.
> 
> Locale: Don't knock it, it's my hometown -- and although I am thousands and thousands of miles away in a whole different hemisphere now and haven't been back there in more than two decades, this lil town will always be home to me. So please be kind.
> 
> As always, I love to hear from you, so thank you for all of your lovely comments.

~~oooOOOooo~~

Hide and seek combined with a game of tag with a four year old boy was a fun game to play. Adding a pair of excitable wolves to the game made it even more interesting…

…Of course, that’s if you had only been playing the game for a few minutes. Right now, Rose was on hour three, and she was thoroughly beat and ready to take a nap. Three times she’d tried to step back and let little Mark play his game with the two wolves, and each time her darling and precocious little lad whined and begged her to keep playing. Even the suggestion to eat and drink hadn’t worked to settle the youngster down.

She finally let out a sign and flopped onto a chair, more off it than on it as she slid down as far as her back. She waved her hand at her son when he stopped running only long enough to ask if they could keep playing. “Go ahead,” she managed through a dry mouth and panting breath. “Mummy just needs a rest, okay? Just a minute.”

He jogged over to her and grabbed her hand. He pulled on it incessantly with a whine. “Mamma, please play with me.”

Ordinarily those gorgeous big green eyes of his would melt her into a little puddle and she would immediately acquiesce to whatever his two little hearts desired. But right now, she just couldn’t keep going.

“Baby, I can’t,” she answered pitifully. “Mummy’s really tired and needs to right now. Can you wait for Daddy? He should be home in only a couple of hours.”

“Papa’s so far away,” he wailed, still tugging on her hand. “And I want to play now. Please? I’m so bored.” 

That last word was moaned, groaned, and sang on a long and lilting note. Rose did all she could do to rise up to a stand. Her legs were shaking and her heart pounding. Where did this kid get all this energy?

…She’d blame his father. Absolutely blame him.

“How about a snack instead?” she asked him gently. “Little Time Lords need to eat to become big and strong like their daddies.”

He walked up against her legs and looked up at her with squinted and analytical eyes. “And then I can fly the TARDIS like him, too. Right?” He pulled away from her and held out his arms like he was an airplane. “And travel around the Universe through time and space!” He ran around making plane noises.

“Yeah,” Rose drawled on long and thankful sing-song note. “Once you’ve gone to the academy and gotten your license to fly, maybe Daddy will get you your very own TARDIS,”

He stopped running on the spot. His arms snapped down to his hips and he tilted his head at her. “But I want _our_ TARDIS,” he told her in a voice that commanded no argument at all. 

“Well, I don’t know about that, Mark.”

“Daddy said I could have her,” he answered with a smirk. “Says he’s domes … domest… ehm..”

“Domesticated,” Rose offered. 

“Yes!” he cheered. “That’s it. Domesticated. So he says now that he’s – dom-esti-ca-ted – and isn’t going to flit around the universe anymore.”

“Yeah,” she said with a laugh. “I’ll believe that when I see it… I give him another five years – and you starting at the academy - before he gets itchy feet and wants to head out again.”

Mark looked confused. “Why would his feet itch?”

Rose merely shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. “Baby, I don’t know. It’s just a saying.”

“Strange saying,” he muttered with a shrug. His eyes then lit up and he ran past her into the house. “Let’s play in the TARDIS!”

Rose’s eyes shot open wide. She spun and quickly ran in behind him. “No, Mark. Daddy said you aren’t to play in the TARDIS.”

He grinned as he spun in his run and gave her a cheeky wink. “He won’t know!”

“Oh yes he will,” she muttered, knowing that the Doctor was very particular about the TARDIS and how close their son got to her. Usually, she was confident that the beautiful blue ship was always kept locked and safe from time tot hands, but the Doctor had been pottering around in her before he left for work this morning, and was in a hurry when he left …

She rounded the corner to see her small boy, wearing a short-sleeved crimson tunic and shorts set, disappearing around the open door of the ship.

“Damn it, Doctor,” she growled as she bolted in after him, followed closely by the female Dahrama. Her mate was in the living room gnawing at an itch on his front paw.

“Mark, don’t you touch anything!”

His eyes were wide and falsely innocent as he looked at her from around the main console. “ _What_?”

“Oh don’t you _what_ me young man,” she chided him firmly. “Now come back here. Don’t touch anything, or I’ll tell your father you were being naughty today.” She gave him a stern point of her finger. “I mean it, Mark. Daddy won’t be happy to know you were playing about in here.”

With a look of challenge in his eye, young Mark stared at his mother as he slapped his palm on a few of the buttons on the panel in front of him. He said nothing to her at all as he continued to stare at her as he slapped and poked a few more, this time with both hands.

“Mark,” she warned darkly. “Look. I know you’re bored, and I’m sorry. But I tell you what. How about you and me take a walk to the Cascades? We can go swimming if you like? I can make us some sandwiches, pack some drinks?”

Well that seemed to interest him. With a beaming smile, he turned to run around the console toward her. “Yes! And I can ride down that new slide that papa made!” He let out a little oop as his foot caught on a stray cable and he stumbled.

“You can indeed,” Rose began only a moment before she let out her own style of oop when she saw her son fall. Immediately she rounded the console to pick him up, but was thrown backward as the TARDIS whined to life and the whole room shifted. “What the…?”

Mark was on the floor, his leg kicked up into a lever. There was horror in his eyes as he looked toward hit mother. ‘Mamma? I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. It was an accident.”

“Oh Hell!” she yelped out as the door behind her slammed shut. The column in the centre of the room lit up and started to shift in a slow rise and fall timed perfectly with the whine and wheeze of dematerialisation – a sound that Rose knew far too well for her to mistaken. “Oh no. No no no no no.”

Quickly she jumped to her feet to face the console over the top of Mark’s head. She flipped levers, turned dials, slapped buttons, but nothing seemed to shut down the movement of the rotor column in the centre of the room. At the doors of the ship, her female wolf pawed desperately at the doors, her long craws scraping loudly against the wood.

Phone! Rose could call the Doctor, tell them something had gone a little bit awry, and could he please teach her how to operate his TARDIS so she could come home? He wouldn’t be _that_ mad at her, would he?

His fault for leaving the ship unlocked!

She petted her hips, against the only two pockets that this outfit had. There was no hard bump of a phone in either of them. The phone was charging on the kitchen counter. She braced her hands on the console edge and lowered her head as she considered just what she could do from here. She had zero knowledge in how to operate the TARDIS. She couldn’t pilot it, she couldn’t set it to return, she couldn’t even work out how to light up the comms line.

“Mamma,” her son’s voice – so tiny and scared – called from below. “Mamma, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby,” she assured him with a soft voice. 

‘When I said I wanted to go on a trip, I was only joking,” he said with a croaking voice. “And now I got us lost, didn’t I?”

“We’ll be okay.” She set her hand on his mussy, sweated flop of brown-haired head, and looked up tot eh column. “Help me out, Old Girl,” she begged the TARDIS. “Land us somewhere safe until he can find us. Please.”

The command deck swooped to one side as though the ship suddenly changed course, and in a quick moment the wheeze and howling ebbed off, to leave only the hum of her emergency systems to break the silence in the room.

Rose breathed out a small sigh of relief that they were on the ground. She had no idea where, and whether or not leaving the TARDIS would be a safe endeavour, but at least they were on the ground and not stuck in the vortex where the Doctor would have no way of getting to them.

Her son still whimpered at her feet. Mark hugged at her leg and sobbed out his terrified apologies and for her to please not tell his father about this.

“Don’t know why you’re so scared of _him_ ,’ she murmured as she tried flicking up a few random levers to see if she could get something to work in her favour. “All you need to do is give a little whimper at him, and he’ll run out to buy you a present.” She looked down to him, trying to shield her fear with admonishment. “Spoiled little thing you are.” 

There was whimpering and whining coming from the door as well as from her ankles. “And you too?” she moaned out pitifully. “Come on. You’re a Dahrama! You’re a strong proud woman! Suck it up …” She winced and actually laughed as she shook her head. “And wait for the boys to come save us. Oh, how utterly pathetic.”

The wolf gave her a little humph, whether or not in agreement to her words, she really didn’t know. But she took it as such and rubbed her hands on her skirt. She stooped down to pick up her frightened child, and sat him on her hip. She held him tightly and expressed words of comfort in Gallifreyan – the primary language that she and the Doctor were teaching him over English. He seemed to settle and simply snuffled wetly against her throat.

“It’s okay, Mark,” she soothed gently, not wanting to upset the lad any further. “Things like this happen when adult Time Lords forget to lock up their playthings from curious little Time Tot hands.” She walked to the door, and to her wolf who was still pawing desperately at the door. “Daddy will be here shortly to take us home. Don’t you worry about that.”

She stopped at the door and scratched the wolf behind the ears. “And your mate will be right there with him, Darling.”

Beyond the door she could hear loud sounds of whooping of children on the other side. A longer listen assured her that they were sounds of thrill and excitement over cries of fear, and so she twisted the tumbler to unlock the door and held her breath. She looked down to her son, who was how wiping at his eyes and nose with his wrists. “What do you think? Should we wait here for Daddy, or should be take a peek outside?”

“Is it safe?” he asked worriedly.

“Well that’s the question of the day, isn’t it?” she answered with a sigh and a look to the door. “But I trust the TARDIS not to have landed us anywhere too nasty.” She juggled his lithe little body at her hip. “So what do you say; want to step outside for a minute?”

His tears dried quickly and a sense of excitement came over him. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she sang out, successfully hiding any of the apprehension she felt – which was a lot. “Why not? Let’s explore just a little bit while we wait for Daddy.” She blew out a breath and pulled open the door. “Because only Rassilon knows how long that’ll be.”

She did expect for the door to open and the three of them be greeted with a wide open field of sorts. That wasn’t the case, however. It looked to Rose as though they had materialised inside an aluminum shed. Granted, it wasn’t a small shed, more like a large storage room for a high school metal workshop. It was dirty, dusty, and incredibly warm. Almost immediately she felt sweat on her brow. Her hip upon which her son still sat was almost unbearably hot. With a coo and a demand for him to stay close, she set his feet on the ground and held on to his little hand, which was fortunately cool like his father’s.

“At least you won’t roast to death,” she murmured as she took a look around them and fanned her face with her free hand. “And at least the TARDIS looks like she’ll be safe from discovery in here.”

It was quite dark in the shed, with the only lighting being from the sun outside shining through the gaps between the doors and the roof structure. It allowed her enough to determine what they were in, and enough to know that although small, there was plenty of room to move around.

A look to the left and she saw some old rusted-looking tool cabinets and a worn-out bench. It was covered in dust and cobwebs, which meant it hadn’t been used for a long while. Quite likely, neither had this room itself. Not if the thick webbing in the corners of the shed, and across the abandoned equipment were any indication. 

Her son let out a stunned gasp of complete surprise, which had her drop her eyes to his little face half hidden in the shadow. “What is it?”

He pointed toward her right, and to a tall blue cabinet in the corner. “Mum. It’s another TARDIS.”

Her head twisted to look to her right, and she let out a gasp. “Oh no,” she whimpered to herself. “This. This is not good at all.” She flicked her eyes to the TARDIS she’d arrived in. “ _This_ was your idea of sending us somewhere _safe_?” She tilted her head to one side, her eyes wide. “Well. I suppose it _should_ be safe … although if the Doctor’s here, so is some form of mortal danger.”

The only question now in her mind was just which one of the Doctors was here? One she knew already, one who knew her in the past, or one who never knew her at all.

Oh this was going to give her a headache.

“Whichever one you are,” she breathed out finally. “I hope you can tell us hot to get home. Hopefully before _my_ Doctor finds out we’re even gone to begin with.” She looked down to her son, who looked up at her with amused eyes. “Yeah, baby. I can be afraid of upsettin’ him too.”

Not that he was anything to fear, of course. But he was really awfully good at the silent treatment when he got mad at her because of an argument … and she hated the silent treatment. She’d especially hate being on the receiving end of it because of a mistake he’d made….

…Maybe she should give _him_ the silent treatment instead.

Better yet: maybe she should stop blaming him for the mess she was in right now.

A loud whoop and cheer from outside had her lift her head out of her thoughts, and Rose Tyler tightened the hold she had on her son’s hand. With gentle coaxing and a forward stride, she led the two of them to the door, their protective wolf standing guard at her side.

She pressed her palm to the door, immediately drawing it away with a hiss at the heat of it. She shook it in the air to cool it wondering just what kind of landscape they were about to talk into. Nothing on Earth could possibly be that hot, so surely they hadn’t materialised there…

Wherever they were, it was time to search out whichever version of her husband was on the other side of the door. So without further concern for anything other than finding him, she covered her hand in her long bell sleeve, pushed open the door, and then froze.

It was an almost audible whoomph of heat that assaulted her on the other side. However hot she found it inside the shed, it was fairly mild to the heat outside. Fr a moment she wondered if she had singed off her eyebrows, lashes, and any other bit of hair on her face or head. She spared a quick and concerned glance down at her boy, who actually grinned into the heat with his eyes tightly closed and shook her head.

“Just like your father,” she breathed out with amusement. “No matter how hot or how cold, you just grin and bear it.”

He chuckled a happy sound from the back of his throat, and then started to tug on his mother’s hand. “Come on, let’s explore!”

“Not scared anymore, then?” she asked as the two of them stepped into incredible sunlight and a heat unlike any she’d ever experienced before. Gallifrey was hot even on a cool day, but never with heat quite as scorching as this. She wiped at her brow and then flicked the length of her long deep blue skirt as though it might kick start some magical mystical kind od air-conditioning serve for her.

No such luck, unfortunately.

She seemed to be correct in her assumption that they’d landed at a school. Although this was unlike any that she’d attended back in London. This one was actually quite small. She could see three long two-storeyed buildings, set in a U-shape, with all doors facing a smaller building at the centre. There were no corridors, just balconies overlooking grasses that were in desperate need of a good watering. There were a few tall ghost-like smooth barked trees with very little foliage to give off any real shade. In fact, taking a look around, she couldn’t see too many areas where there was any real shade to be offered.

She assumed that students must stay inside, given the stifling heat. It only had to be mid-morning, but it felt like they were in the very hottest part of any day.

“Ooh,’ her son sang out with a giggle and a kick of his feet along rocky dirt. “Ground’s red, like home.”

She looked down, and then looked up and around. Sure enough, the landscape certainly had a lot of red in it. Not from the grasses, like on Gallifrey, but red like the deserts near Arcadia.

“So it is, Mark. Great observation!”

“Did we just move to another part of Gallifrey?” There was actually annoyance in his voice at that. “I hope not, because that wouldn’t exactly be worth makin’ papa mad.”

“It’s be more likely to make him laugh than mad,’ Rose offered with a shrug.

There was a whoop and a cheer, and a trio of young teens shot by them. All three of them were dressed in an inordinate amount of red: Shirts, hats, socks, ribbons, and even streamers fashioned into a pair of pony-tails. Another youngster pushed by, this one wearing the same level of colouring, but this time in blue. She spun in her run to yell out an apology.

“’Scuse me, Miss. Sorry!” She turned to another friend, also dressed in blue. “C’mon, Shaz. Mr. Smith is in the hundred goin’ against Mr. Horn.”

“Ahhh, Horny will kick his arse,” Shaz hollered out. 

“Loser’s gotto wear a bloody dress on Monday! My bet’s on Smith!”

They squealed and took off, no doubt to wherever this _hundred_ thing was. 

Rose’s eyes were wide. Well. With that rather specific and easily recognisable accent, she had now officially worked out just where the TARDIS had landed them. Australia. How she didn’t immediately determine that just from the blistering heat, she didn’t know. OF course just where in Australia remained to be determined… and just what time period…

Following the cheers, Rose, Mark, and the wolf walked along a worn red path toward a rickety looking cyclone fence. The gate was open, and they stepped through, down onto a bitumen road, and toward what appeared to be a large sporting field big enough for a decent game of cricket. It was filled with more teenagers than Rose ever hoped to see in one place ever again since she left high school. All of them were attired in one of four colours: Yellow, blue, green, and red, and all of them seemed to be cheering for anyone else that happened to be wearing the same colour.

They walked further down toward the field, crossing into a small outside stadium seating area, where a group of what appeared to be parents had set up drink and food tables.

Rose lifted her eyes and head with realisation. School sports carnival. Athletics, by the looks of the tracks painted onto the grass and the various other activities happening in the middle of the field. 

The took a look toward the very edge of the field, where there seemed to be the most excitement from the teens right now. Blue, red, green and gold were all mixed, but the two men they were cheering on obviously represented very specific colours.

One man, tall and muscular and quite attractive for a teacher, was dressed all in yellow. He wore a streamer around his forehead like a headband and had yellow paw prints drawn in a track along one leg and an arm. He wore a long yellow sleeveless T-shirt with a rip in the front. Toned and tanned legs came out of a pair of ridiculously tight and short shorts that quite clearly had the teenaged girls giggling and gushing. The other fellow, dressed to represent blue, wore sport shorts that reached down past his thigh, and halfway to his pasty-white knees. He was not nearly as well built as his competitor, but was still lithe tall and fit. His blue coverage was with a T-Shirt, head streamer, and a cape hanging from his shoulders.

“Here’s for Bulloo!” he called out as he turned around on the field to take starting position in what must’ve been the race of the day.

Rose’s entire face fell when she saw familiar brown hair, tousled into high spikes, and a bright, wide, manic smile that could only ever belong to one man – the very last one she had hoped to see.

“Doctor?”


	37. Meeting and old Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose is thrilled to bump into a man she long thought gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the comments I received yesterday was from Twisha, who asked me to tell them that the other teacher was Jack Harkness. Originally, that was not my intent ... but on reflection immediately after reading that comment I thought, well, shit! That could actually work!
> 
> I've decided that Martha is not a lovelorn puppy guilty of some kind of smoochy unrequited love crap. She's seen it for herself, she knows that there's no chance that the Doctor is falling for her any time in the future. So that said: Let's give her the supportive, and protective personality we know this girl's got.
> 
> If you don't like that characterisation of her, then I apologise, but that's where I'm headed with it.
> 
> So this is the last of the setup chapters for this section, and now I can get into the meaty bits of it that I'm looking forward to writing... And don't any of you worry, I will never put Mark in harms way, so don't think it's heading there.
> 
> Though the Doctor might ... I reckon Eight's got a decent serving of Oncoming Storm in him .. and I'm looking forward to exploring that. :)
> 
> I sinceriously hope that you enjoy... I'll do my best to get more up this weekend!
> 
> Thank you again for your comments! They really do give a great incentive to keep going (and let me know you're still with me on this journey)

~~oooOOOooo~~

The Doctor. The pinstriped one. The one she had never seen wearing anything less than a full two-piece suit – except that one time in Rome – running around in a pair of loose sport shorts and a short-sleeved T-shirt with a cape attached to the back of it…

…It wasn’t one of his best looks, but it was quite adorable, if very human.

Her hand was on the top of her son’s head, and his arms were wrapped tightly around one of her legs. While she perfectly understood his clinginess, she wished that he’d let go of her leg. This heat was brutal, and she was sure that when he let go there’d be a decent wet impression of him in the blue fabric of her skirt.

“Mark, baby,” she said after a moment. “Please, not so tight.”

A white plastic cup full of ice and water was suddenly thrust toward her. “Here,” a soft English voice offered. “Looks like you might need this.”

Rose blinked, her back and shoulders jerking in surprise. She looked fist at the cup, and then to the person holding it: a beautiful women with immaculate dark skin and a brilliant white smile. Her dark hair was held back with a single clip that didn’t quite sit properly on her head, and instead hung loose to release several wispy bags around her face and neck.

In a word: Damn. In two: Absolutely stunning.

She beamed the woman a wide smile of gratitude and took the cup, passing down to her child without pause. “Thank you very much…” She paused and widened her eyes in a non-spoken request for her name.

“Martha,” she answered with a smile as he held up a second cup. “I’m the nurse here at the high school.” Her smile fell only slightly to reveal a more cautious and questioning expression. “I haven’t seen you around before. Does your child attend the school?”

Rose looked down at her youngster, and then back up to Martha. Her own expression was one of mild offence. “Ehm, no. He’s only four. Not even old enough yet for primary school.”

“I see,” she pressed. “New in town?”

“Passing through,” she answered, her concern rising at the questioning and just how small this town must be to be immediately recognised as being an outsider. 

“Passing through,” Martha repeated to herself. Her eyes flicked toward the men on the track at the bottom of the stadium stairs. “Not here for any other reason?”

“Not with heat like this,” she muttered with a flick of her long blonde hair over her shoulder. The tight neatness of the small braids that had held back her loose hair had long ago lost their ability to adequately hold her hair from her face – such was hide and seek and tag with a four year old over three hours. She let out a long sigh. “I’m just waiting for my husband to appear, then we’ll be off. No need to be so concerned about strangers swanning about.”

Martha blinked and let out a breath. “That was a bit obvious of me, wasn’t it?”

“Probably a little rude as well,” Rose answered with a shrug. “But I get it: Field full of kids and strange people millin’ about.” She looked down ad a murmur from her son and answered him back in a language filled with trills and rolls. She petted his head when he nodded and looked back to the field.

“That’s an interesting language,” Martha noted. 

“Arcadian,” Rose answered her distractedly, watching both of the men on the field waving their arms and trying to liven up the already boisterous crowd. “A very ancient dialect.” She pointed to the crowd. “What’s happening down there?”

“Battle of the Science Department,” she answered with a shrug. “Biology versus physics. Jack Horn and John Smith teach each course respectively, and there’s been some competition brewing between them as to which of the two are more effective to win a race: Biology: Braun and athleticism, or Physics: the function?”

“I see,’ Rose answered with a lift in her brows. “Well. I say biology all the way. You can be as nerdy-geeky on the physics thing all ya want, but if you don’t have the muscles and stamina to pull it off…”

Martha smiled. “Jack might be a fit bloke, but I think John might actually have one up on him in this race.”

“I think I might step down and watch,” Rose said more to herself as she tapped her son’s head with her fingertip to let him know she wanted to move down the stairs. At Mark’s side, her wolf padded protectively against his side huffing in warning whenever anyone got too close.

Martha watched the woman curiously. The Doctor’s message had been clear that she should be on the watch for anyone new that might show up in town. This one was about as new as anyone could be. With a flowing royal blue empire-waisted dress, and intricate braiding in hair that fell right down to the dip in her lower back, she didn’t even look like she belonged in this time period, let alone the Australian Outback.

To be sure, she followed behind the woman, taking position behind her as the race began.

~~oooOOOooo~~

Jack Harkness’ face was broken in two with a wide smile of thrill at the crown that had gathered around he and John Smith. Ahhhh, school athletics carnivals we always fun, and a great source of friendly competition – especially when it came to giving a smarmy little know it all like John Smith a bit of what-for. He’d been looking forward to this race for the last three weeks; looking forward to wiping that smart-arse grin off his face. He was looking more forward to the fact that he’d win this race hands down in front of the entire student body and have the man have to skirt-it-up on Monday as penance for his crimes.

Just which crime? The one where he’d snatched the girl out from under his nose less than two weeks after arriving at the school. The pretty English teacher that he’d been diligently working toward procuring as his own for three months before Smith arrived with his proper British accent and pretty-boy good looks.

Oh yes, this was going to be quite the race…

He looked toward his opponent with a small sneer in his lip. “You ready, Smith?”

John Smith offered him a smile of his own as he tipped his head to one side and said, “You bet I am, Jack.” He turned in place and opened his arms to the gathering, and cleared his throat wo address the crowd. “Right, you lot. You ready for the battle of the science nerds?”

“Careful who you’re calling a nerd,” Jack muttered back. He lifted his head. “Right my Mundawindi dog pack, this one’s going to count to the final standings, so make sure you’re cheering me on.”

Various taunts, and some rather skeezy comments were called from the group, many of which made him laugh He shook his head with a smile and scanned the gathering, le passed a look toward Smith as they both stood ready for the firing shot to get them going. “I want sequins on your shirt on Monday,” he warned him jokingly.

“Then make sure you’ve got plenty of sparkle and spaghetti straps on yours,” he teased in reply. “You ready?”

“You bet.”

Both men stood at the start, and lowered themselves into a starting position that wasn’t a crouch. Jack took a last look around him before he chose to focus on the race. His focus quickly came, but it wasn’t on the finish line ahead of him, nor was it on the track itself. His eyes locked on a vision in blue just past the fence.

And she was a vision. Set against the red dirt, the khaki coloured grasses, and the orange aluminium shell of the stadium structure, her deep blue dress stood out like a beacon. The warm winds swayed her long dark blonde hair with the same swoop it did her skirt. Her dark-rimmed eyes, that sharp angled jaw, and those magnificent lips … oh they all belonged to only one person in the entire universe.

“Rose…”

He ignored the pop of the starting gun, and of the man beside him taking off in a run. He ignored the disappointed yells and walked across the track toward her. His walk became a jog, which then turned into a run. His arms flew open and he yelled out excitedly.

“Rosie!!”

Rose’s eyes snapped to him, first in confusion, then in recognition, and finally they shifted to thrill and excitement. Her mouth moved to say his name, but the sound of it was drowned out by the vicious warning barks and growls from a large animal that launched into a run toward him.

Oh, he was glad there was a fence in front of the … Of the … no, that wasn’t, was it?

Skidding to a stop only a foot in front of the fence, he looked up at Rose with wide and horrified eyes. He actually stepped back, bringing his arm up as though to ward off an attack. “Is that a Gallifreyan wolf? How the hell do you have a Dahrama?”

Rose quickly shook herself from her surprise and moved forward to calm her wolf. “Tiallu,” she warned her gently. “Settle, down darlin’, he’s a friend. Not a threat.”

Her son spoke in rapid Gallifreyan, assuring her that he’d calm her down. He quickly threw him arms around the wolf’s neck and shoulders and buried his little face into her fur. She quickly quietened, offering one last humph of warning to him.

He wasn’t moving an inch further toward her, such was his horror. He looked at her with wide eyes. “Rosie?”

Rose skipped in place for a second, and then squeaked as she lifted her skirts, ran down the remaining three steps, and weaved around a small gap in the fence to get to him. She was lifted in his arms and being spun in a circle – several circles – before she even realised she was now on the field of play.

Jack’s head was lifted and his eyes wide and reverent at the sight of her up above him, her head thrown back in the sunshine and her mouth wide with laughter. An overwhelming need overcame him at that moment, and in a second, he had her feet back on the grass and had claimed her mouth in a searing kiss.

She was stunned somewhat, and her eyes were wide open to gaze upon his closed lids. Her hands were on his shoulders and she used that position to slowly lever herself back away from him. There was a deep discomfort and pain inside her belly and inside her mind that increased with intensity the more he tried to maintain contact.

She muttered his name against his mouth in a plea for him to let her go. He did, but he didn’t fully release her, instead he spoke her name against her mouth. “I’ve missed you,” he vowed.

Very angry rapid-fire Gallifreyan language yelled up from below where he held her at her waist. A small brown haired by shoved his hands and face in between their hips and roughly shoved hard at Jack to push him away from her. Those hostile words continued unbidden as he used both hands against Jack’s hips to push him, one step at a time, a considerable distance from Rose. When satisfied that he was a good enough distance away, the young boy stalked back to his mother, grabbed her left hand and held it out for Jack to see. In amongst the indecipherable rant, Jack made out only one word: “Papa” and it was spoken as the child pointed to what looked to be the biggest diamond the Time Agent had ever seen.

Rose crouched beside the lad. “It’s okay, Mark. Jack’s a friend.”

Rapid Gallifreyan again with the only to words recognised were: “Mamma” and “papa”

“Translation matrix not working?” Jack asked quietly. His expression toward young Mark was both amusement and discomfort. “I guess the old boy’s working on it, right?”

She shook her head but remained in her crouch beside her son. “I’m sorry about that, Jack. Mark. Well, he’s a little protective of the family unit. Thinks he needs to protect his mum’s virtue when his daddy’s not around.”

“Daddy being big ears and sexy leather?” he asked with a wink and a smile. “Have to say, it’s about time he took a break from the endless shagging and made an honest woman of you.”

Rose’s smile fell and sadness crossed her features. Despite having more love, devotion, and affection from her husband than she could have ever hoped to receive even from her first Doctor, she still missed that him desperately.

He saw the sadness and tried to step forward, but was stopped by a small and insistent hand held up on a “stop” position. He made do with tilting his head and wincing just slightly in apology. “I’m so sorry, Rose,” he managed. “When I see that you’re married with a child, I automatically assumed you were still with the Doctor.”

A smile broke. “I am,” she breathed out lovingly. “The Doctor _is_ my husband. Just not the version of him you think.”

He nodded. “Regenerated. Oh, I get it.”

A soft feminine voice interrupted the pair. “Hold on, are you Rose? As in Rose Tyler?”

Rose turned to see the young woman who had been talking to them earlier. Martha, was it? “I actually go by Lungbarrow now,” she answered. “But yes, I am.” Her eyes narrowed. “How do you know who I am.” She looked at Jack. “She’s with you?”

Jack shook his head. “No, actually, she’s not. She started at the school the same day as Smith..” He walked around Rose toward Martha. There was threat and protectiveness in his eyes. “Just how do you know about Rose?”

Martha took a step back, both hands held up in surrender. “I don’t mean any harm to her at all,” she croaked out. “I know her because I’ve met her husband.” She circled her finger around her hair. “Wild chestnut curls, puppy-dog eyes, pouty lips.” She inhaled. “Completely gorgeous and dresses out of a Bronte tale?”

Rose nodded as a crease formed in her brow. “That’s him,” she confirmed. “H-How have you met him?”

She swallowed. “I travel with a future version of him. The, ehm, the one you left.” She caught her look of surprise but continued anyway. “We met by chance on a planet being overrun by Daleks. Leela was there with him. I mean _your_ Doctor.” She tiled her head. “It was only a couple of months ago. You’d just given birth to a son.” Her eyes dropped to the young boy, who was still staring down Jack with all of the menace he could. “I suppose your second child?”

“That was four years ago,” Rose said softly. “The Doctor. He couldn’t tell us what happened.” He eyes blew wide as she remembered back to that time. “He said he really couldn’t remember anything at all about it. Leela never spoke of it … at least not to the two of us anyway.” She actually smiled. “Which got him into a lot of trouble with my mum.” She looked at Jack with wide eyes of amusement. “He came home from that trip wearing only his boxers and a shirt, and he couldn’t tell us anything about what happened…”

“It was an horrific accident,” Martha confirmed with a wince. “He got shot by a Dalek, a new weapon they’ve got that stops a Time Lord from regenerating.” She closed her eyes and shuddered with remembrance. “My Doctor had to save him with his own regeneration energy. It was awful. He was completely covered in blood. Leela and I, we couldn’t send him home like that, so we undressed him to clean him up.”

“And he didn’t bother to get dressed before he came home?”

Jack snickered. “Probably so eager to get home to his wife to do a bit of hot post-adventure shagging that he didn’t feel it worth it to waste his time getting dressed when his intention was to get it all off the second he walked out of the TARDIS anyway.” He nudged her in the ribs and winked. “Am I right?”

Rose held back her laugh and looked at him as seriously as she could manage given that she just wanted to bust out laughing. “I’d only given birth a day and a half before then. He had to wait almost 6 weeks to get that shag.”

Martha looked down to the youngster who had foregone glaring at Jack, and was now staring at the skinny dude being carried by a group of other kids wearing blue clothing all congratulating him on the win. His eyes were wide and very confused by it all.

“That little boy is the baby I saw Romana holding on the video feed?”

Rose petted his head tenderly and nodded. She looked back to Martha. “I’ll guess, then, that if my Doctor doesn’t remember that day, neither does yours?”

She shook her head. “Not a moment of it. Which is sad, because I still believes that you’re dead.”

“To him, I am,” she said gravely. “At least, it’s better that way. I’m never going to see him again. Not in that body, anyway.”

“That’s really not fair,” Martha challenged her. “He’s heartbroken, Rose. He loves you like I’ve never seen anyone love another person.”

Rose lifted her eyes to the man she could confirm for now was definitely the Doctor. He was now on his feet and cheering with the kids, high fiving them all. A stunning young brunette woman strode up in a sway toward him, and without a thought, he snatched her around the waist and pulled her in for a victory kiss. “Yeah,” she breathed out. “But he’s certainly getting over it.”

“Don’t read into that, Rose,” she assured her. “There’s something you need to know…”

Jack twisted far enough around that he had to look down his shoulder at his competitor. His lip curled at the scene. “Oi! Smith! Really? In front of the kids?”

“To the victor come the spoils,” he called back with a toothy grin. 

“Yeah, well you only won by default,” he called back as John Smith started a walk toward them. His voice quietened as the man drew closer. “I forfeited.”

“A win’s a win,” he answered back with a shrug. He winked at Martha. “Hey Mar.”

“John,” she breathed out by way of greeting.

He looked at the young boy looking up at him with wide eyes, and then up to Rose. There was a very miniscule moment of recognition, but it was gone in an instant. He offered her a smile and held out his hand in greeting. “Martha, do you want to introduce me to your lovely friend? Hi. I’m John.”

Rose took a step backward, put her hands on her son’s shoulders and tugged him back with her. The wolf sensed her mistress’ apprehension and started to snarl. “D-Doctor?” she shuddered out so quietly it was barely heard.

He laughed, ignored the snarling of the wolf at his hip, and pulled back his hand. “No. Not a Doctor,” he purred. “Well, not yet, at least. I am thinking of picking up my studies again when I get back to London, maybe I’ll go for my doctorate. Maybe not. For now, though, just a science teacher.”

He then looked to Jack and slapped him against the chest with the back of his hand. “And speaking of. We’d best get back to the games. The future Olympians of Australia are waiting for us to teach them sports things, like javelin, and hockey, and shotput, and all sorts of other sports I have no idea at all about.”

“Yeah,” Jack breathed out with a frown. “Be right with you.”

He looked to Rose and his heart sank. She looked completely distraught, although was battling hard not to show it. She knew this man, she even called him _Doctor_. But Smith? Well, he didn’t seem to even halfway remember her.

“Rose,” he ventured gently. “Are you okay?”

She lifted her head with a long sniff and proudly held it there as she assured him she was fine. “Yeah,” she managed without a crack in her voice. “I’m good, Jack. Don’t worry about me.”

“Hard not to,” he admitted with a tender smile and a stroke of her arm. “Are you going to be around for a while?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It depends when the Doctor comes for me ‘n Mark. I don’t expect he’ll be too far away.”

“Well, wait for me,” he asked with a smile. “Don’t let him take you away from me just yet. I –“ He looked across the field at the activities “I’m tied up here for a few more hours, but after. I think we need to catch up a little.”

She nodded. “I’ll try to keep him here, but I’m not supposed to be leaving Gallifrey, so I think he’ll be eager to get us back home.”

“Gallifrey?” He frowned with puzzlement. “But Gallifrey doesn’t exist anymore.”

“It… It’s a long story, Jack.”

“Then you have no choice than to stick around and tell me.” He touched her cheek. “Love you, kid.”

“Love you too,” she breathed out with a smile.

A holler of his name came from Smith, who was gesturing urgently to him from the middle of the field. “Yeah, keep your cape on, Smith. I’m coming!” He gave Rose a quick salute. “See you later, beautiful.”

Rose nodded, and Jack ran off. She let out a shuddered breath watching the man she called Doctor laughing and joking around with the colourfully dressed teens.

“Rose?” Martha’s voice was apologetic. “There’s something you need to know about him.” She waited for Rose to look at her, and then looked to the man in shorts in the middle of the field. “About the Doctor.”

“It’s okay, Martha,” Rose said with a smile and a shake in her head. “Him and me, and I mean that him. We’re not…” She closed her eyes and sighed. “He’s not tied to me, and I’m not to him. He can do whatever, and whoever, he wants to. I have no hold over him.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” she assured her, taking a step closer to her. “You are so wrong on that.”

Rose looked to her, but said nothing.

“You still have a strong hold over him, whether you want to believe it or not.” She swallowed and lifted her eyes upward as though calming her own emotions. “I saw it when I met him. I’ve seen it in our travels together .. this ghost of you. I tried to ignore it, and hope that one day he’d get over it.” She looked down with a sad smile. “That maybe he and I might…”

“I won’t judge you on that,” Rose admitted softly. “I won’t even get territorial and try to scratch your eyes out.” She smiled at being able to say that. “He’s an easy man to fall for. I get that.”

“But having him fall for you is something different,” Martha added. “Especially with how his hearts feel about you.”

“Please don’t,” she whispered.

“No, I think you need to hear this, Rose.” She huffed. “I heard how your Doctor talked to him when they met…”

Rose’s eyes flashed. “He did _what_?”

“Verbally beat him to a pulp over you,” she continued. “How he – my Doctor - reacted when he found out you were alive and with another him? It nearly killed him.”

“Martha,” she pleaded pitifully. “Please don’t.”

“He talks about you all the time,” she pressed on. “Takes me to the places he took you. Friend zones by talking about how Rose would do this, and Rose would do that – so much better than I can.” She swallowed. “I think you need to know that. You really do. That man out there – “ she pointed to John Smith, who was whooping a high five to a kid who had obviously done something brilliant, and then frowned a little. “Well not exactly that man out there. I mean the man he usually is, which he isn’t right now.” He blew out a breath. “And he’s going to be devastated when he realises that you were here, right here, and he wasn’t.”

“You’re making no sense at all right now,” Rose muttered.

Martha snorted in lieu of a laugh. “You say that like life with him ever makes sense.”

“True,” she admitted with a shrug.

“Anyway, what I’m trying to tell you, Rose, is that the Doctor, the actual pin-stripe wearing Time Lord. Well he loves you, and he misses you terribly.”

“He really doesn’t look like it,” she argued softly, remembering the lip lock he had earlier with the other woman. “Seems to have moved on quite well with miss big lips and tight bike pants over there.”

Martha snickered at that. “Not territorial over me, but her?”

“She kissed him,” Rose said with a sigh. “And he enjoyed it. Madame du Pompous-arse all over again.”

Martha was intrigued, and her lifted brow expressed that intrigue quite effectively. She ignored that for now, however and cleared her throat. “Yes. Well. If he was Time Lord him,” she began. “He wouldn’t have let her anywhere near him.”

_Don’t be so sure of that_ ended up coming out instead as “What do you mean by that?”

“Rose,” she said with a sigh. “Right now. The Doctor isn’t _the Doctor, Time Lord of Gallifrey_.” She swallowed with a wince. “Right now, he’s _John Smith, Human_.”

Rose twisted to face Martha directly. “What do you mean by that.”

“I mean,’ she began. “That he’s gone and changed himself. That man out there, he might’ve been born a Time Lord on Gallifrey, but right now, he’s just like me, and just like you: An ordinary Human.”

“What? How?”

“And worse. The reason he had to change means that having your son here, right now, is more dangerous than you can possibly imagine.” She gulped. “You better hope that your Doctor gets here as quick as possible.”


	38. Dead TARDIS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hot in Australia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look! I'm getting weekend chapters done.. how awesome is that?
> 
> Writing and watching true crime on ID Discovery channel is not a good combination. I swear they've put on the most gruesome stories today and it's making me shudder and seriously question humanity....
> 
> Oh well ... I guess I do that anyway sometimes...
> 
> I really hope you like today's offering. 
> 
> Thank you for your wonderful comments. :) Love them!

~~ooOOOooo~~

The festivities and boisterous fun continued relentlessly throughout the day. There was more cheering and competition than Rose had ever seen, even at some of the soccer games that she’d snuck into in her teens. Even as the day continually grew hotter, and the sun shifted to blaze directly overhead the energy didn’t wane one iota, especially as the carnival came to a close and the entire student body and their faculty members gathered to announce the champions of the day. There was more excitement and cheering at that moment than she’d seen all day.

And then, within the span of only fifteen minutes, the entire field cleared out completely, leaving only a handful of adults left to clean up the mess left behind.

Rose sat on a concrete seat in the middle of the small stadium area, and despite being seated in the shade, the heat was close to unbearable. She’d lifted the skirts of her blue dress up to sit over her knees and removed the top layer of fabric on her shoulders down to the tight spaghetti-strap blue camisole that she wore underneath. Beside her, laying on a bed of blue and yellow streamers and flags, using a wolf’s belly as his pillow, young Mark napped peacefully. The wolf, herself, dozed quietly, in and out and listening to make sure that her small charge was safe and protected.

Rose had participated a little in the food stand throughout the day, and had made some friendly acquaintances as she handed out cups of water and wedges of sliced fruit to the sports day participants. It was fun, she had to admit, and part of her decided that if she got the opportunity to do so on Gallifrey, that she’d definitely sign up for the PTA at the academy once Mark started there. 

Lord knows she would need something to do once Mark was at school. Being a stay at home certainly did have its rather boring moments…

…Although the Doctor had been hinting recently that they should try again for another child. Well, there really was no form of _trying_ when it came to conception from the loins of a Time Lord, the result of the effort was guaranteed …So once the decision was made, which she was _close_ to making…

“Penny for you thoughts,” Martha commented with a smile as she took a seat beside her and handed over a can of Coke.

Rose took the beverage with a thankful smile. “Domestic thoughts,” she admitted wit a shrug. “Nothing world-ending.” She took a sip of the cold drink and then chuckled. “Although, when it involves the Doctor, who knows?”

“I hear that,” Martha replied with a tip of her own can of coke in salute. “If you wish to tread in the footsteps of the Doctor, then make sure you come armed.”

“I always do,’ Jack purred in salaciously as he dropped down on to the concrete on the other side of rose to Martha. “Come that is. So what are we talking about that has piqued my interest so?”

“Not what you’re thinking,” Rose shot back with a smile and a shake of her head. “Although feel free to speculate if you like and offer us a riveting tale of how once upon a time you did that and ended up naked.”

He laughed a throaty chuckle. “I’m sure I can answer to that challenge, Rosie.”

“I bet you can.” She sighed and wiped the can across her forehead, moaning as the cool condensation of the can kissed at her brow. “If I can ask a question, what year are we in?”

“1992,” Jack answered. “Right before the cellphone and internet boom began.”

Martha chuckled. “When people still talked to each other face to face, and there wasn’t a selfie-taker in sight.”

Rose snickered. “And teens could get up to all sorts of strife and mischief, and there wasn’t any video evidence available for their parents to find out.” 

“Nor could it haunt them in ten years time when the internet sleuths decided to ruin them by bringing up evidence of the past,” Martha agreed. She then sighed. “Oh what a time to be a teenager.”

Rose looked up to the centre of the field, where the man known as John Smith was walking about with a large black garbage back, stopping awkwardly to pick up garbage. Her eyes remained on him, and on the pretty woman who picked up garbage with him, but she tilted her face toward Martha. “So. You say the Doctor is Human now?”

Jack choked on his Coke, spluttering in shock. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?”

Martha leaned forward to look at him across Rose’s chest. “The Doctor. He’s turned himself Human.”

“Why the Hell would he do that?” He frowned and looked ahead to the pasty white man in shorts ahead of them. It didn’t take him any time at all to assess just which Human that might be. “And please don’t tell me that he’s Smith.”

“Got it in one,” Martha answered with a sigh. Her eyes trained onto the man ahead of them, which then had all three of them looking that way. “That man over there, the smarmy little lothario who managed to piss you off within an hour of arriving is, well, _was_ the Doctor.”

Jack rubbed at his chin, his eyes still on the man. “For him to turn himself Human – and I’d really like to get nsight on ust how he managed that miracle – then it must’ve been for a pretty big reason. HE might like travelling with you lot, but he’s not exactly a fan of your _inferior_ biology.”

“I agree,” Rose said gently. “Heard him complain about us apes more than once.”

Martha leaned forward and cradled her hands between her knees. “He calls them the Family of Blood,” she began. “A species of peoples who have short lifespans, and so chase around the universe looking for long-lived species to take their … I suppose .. life force to extend their own.”

Jack winced. “Yeah. Heard of them before. Time Agency went after them a few times, but couldn’t catch them. Once they’ve taken the essence of another species, they basically become untraceable until the stolen life energy begins to wear off.” He finally looked to Martha. “If the Doctor was able to sense them, then they’re desperate.” His mouth then formed a tight O shape. “Oh, and if they got whiff of a Time Lord…”

“Which he thinks they did,” Martha confirmed with a nod. “And once they’ve locked on to the scent of him, the Doctor says they won’t give up until they find him.”

“And rather than sortin’ them out, and maybe sending them off to the Shadow Proclamation, he decided to turn Human?” Rose asked with a confused frown. “Seems a little extreme, even for him.”

She shrugged. “I guess his intention is to just let them die off naturally so they can’t go after anyone else. Probably doesn’t trust the Shadow Proclamation to keep them contained well enough to make sure they die off and are no longer a threat.”

Rose pursed her lips with contemplation. “So he’s hidden himself as the last Time Lord…”

Jack looked to the sleeping child. “But right now, he’s not the only one here.” His eyes shifted to Rose. “Your son is Time Lord, Rose.”

Rose chewed on her thumbnail and nodded. “Yes, and no. He’s Gallifreyan, but not a Time Lord … at least not yet.”

“Is there really a difference?”

“I don’t know,” she breathed out worriedly. “He doesn’t have the regenerative powers like his father. His life is only long lived if he’s actually on Gallifrey. Here on Earth, well, as far as I know he’s just like the rest of us.”

Jack leaned in to her. “Are you sure about that?”

“I really don’t know,” she admitted with a whine. “I don’t.”

“Then we need to make sure that your Doctor gets here and gets the two of you free of the danger as quickly as possible.” He thumbed at his jaw. “He knows where you are, right?”

She shook her head. “He doesn’t, I’m afraid.” She let out a long breath. “We only left Gallifrey by accident. Mark was messing about in the TARDIS and somehow managed to activate her into flight mode. I didn’t know how to stop it.” She winced. “And once we got here, I didn’t know how to get us back.”

“Use the recall lever,” he said plainly. “That would activate a return flight protocol and land you in the same temporal coordinates that you left.”

Rose flicked her head to him. There was hope in her eyes. “That’s right! You now how to pilot the TARDIS. You used to help the Doctor when you travelled with us.” She finally smiled. “You can send me and Mark home to him, and before he’d even realise we were gone!”

She stood up and grabbed his hand. “Please, Jack. I-I’ll take you to the TARDIS. I’m sure she’ll he happy to see you.”

“And say goodbye the moment I said hello?” he half whined. There was a smile on his face. “Be happy to help, Darling.” He stood up and wiped sweated palms on bare legs. “Best do it now, rather than later, and before the Family can get their noses locked on our little Doctor.”

“Thank you,” she breathed out with relief. She quickly moved toward her sleeping child gently cooing him to waken. “Mark, baby. Time to get up and go home to Daddy.”

The youngster stirred and yawned. He spoke to her in sleepy Gallifreyan that neither Martha or Jack could fully understand. They did hear the curious mention of the word “papa”. Which made Martha sigh with happiness.

“He certainly loves his father, doesn’t he?”

“Mark idolises him,” she confirmed with a soft smile. “And the feeling between them is quite mutual. The Doctor is constantly in awe at his little boy and every one of his milestones.”

“And you sound perfectly in love with them both,” Martha noted.

“They’re both my whole universe,” she sighed. Her smile shifted to discomfort. “And call me pathetic if you will, but I actually ache when I’m this far away from him.”

“No, that’s not pathetic. That’s the bond of a mated pair,” Jack told her with a worried look. “The further apart you are, the more it hurts. And if you’re feeling, Rose, he is as well.” He looked pained. “And, shit. I kissed you! He would have felt that all the way back on Gallifrey. He must be in an absolute panic right now.”

“B-but he can find us, right?” she asked him worriedly. “Tell me he can use that to find us.”

“Yeah, but using the hot/cold method isn’t quite as effective as you think it is.” He held out his hand. “Take me to the TARDIS. Let’s see what we can do about getting you home, or at the very least, letting him know where and when you are.”

“Of course. It’s not too far away, actually.” She let him take her hand, and held her son’s hand In the other. Beside them the wold yawned as she took protective position beside Mark. Martha followed beside the group.

“It’s right through here,” Rose said breathlessly, leading them through the gap in the fence and toward the small shed.

“Our TARDIS is in here,” Martha noted with surprise.

Rose nodded. “We did see her,” she said with a smile. “It was how I knew that it would be safe to go outside. No matter which Doctor was here, I knew he’d help us get back.” Her smile fell to a frown. “Of course, we didn’t expect the Doctor to have turned himself into a Human.” Her sigh was on a high note. “My luck, of course.”

“Jeopardy friendly, isn’t that what he called you, Rosie?” Jack said with a chuckle. “Seems that you’re still the official holder of that title.” He stopped and gasped at the pair of Police Boxes along one wall. “Which one is which?”

Rose walked to her own TARDIS and pushed at the door, which opened with a creak. “This is our baby.”

Jack stepped inside and let out a long and very appreciative purr. He expressed how he felt about her beauty under his breath as Martha stepped up to his side and sighed in reverence of her own.

“She’s beautiful,” Martha sighed. “I could see this every day and never tire of it.”

“You’ve met before,” Rose noted. “When you were with my husband?” At her nod, Rose gave her a small smile. “He’s very proud of how she looks, and even though we have a beautiful home on Gallifrey, he still spends a lot of time in here just reading and hanging out.”

“He misses travelling?” Martha asked. 

Rose shook her head. “Not that he’s ever mentioned, but I suspect that he does. He was domesticated pretty quickly and stopped travelling cold turkey.”

Jack purred in her ear as he waked by to get to the console. “That’s because you’re worth giving it all up for.”

She gave him a beaming grin. “I love you too.”

His smile was wide as he looked up at her from the console. “Now what part of that was me telling you that I love you?” 

“All of it,” she answered with a youthful twist form side to side. “You love me. I know you do.”

“I died for you,” he murmured under his breath as he looked up at the monitor trying to get it to wake.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” he muttered with a crease in his brow as the TARDIS monitors refused to light up. He pressed the series of keystrokes he knew should light up the console and the room around them. “What’s wrong with her?”

Martha appeared at her side. “Is there a problem?”

He leaned down underneath the console and began to flip levers and toggle at switches. He cursed low and under his breath when he got nothing.

“Dead,” he exclaimed with a huff as he stood up and rubbed at his head. ‘She’s completely non responsive.”

Martha’s face creased into a wince. “She’s powered down,” she said with disappointment. “Just like our TARDIS.” She caught the swift movement of Jack’s head, his eyes asking her to clarify. “The Doctor said that she had to go silent. The Family would be able to pick her up on the scanners if she had anything other than her life support systems running.”

“Oh, shit,” he responded with frustration.

“And I guess this TARDIS knows the danger.”

Rose glared at the rotor column. “And you thought this was the safest place to land?” she barked incredulously. “I asked you to make sure we ended up somewhere safe, not where my baby was going to end up in danger without his dad to keep us safe.” She flopped into a chair and dropped her face into her hands. “God, Rassilon, Omega and the Other!”

Mark weaved himself around her arms and pulled her hands from her face. He spoke in very gentle and supportive Gallifreyan that promised her they’d be okay because Papa was coming, so please don’t get upset. Rose rubbed at his head and then pulled him in for a hug. She replied in their shared language and looked to Jack across his head.

“I need to keep him safe,” she half-begged. 

Jack was apologetic. He leaned his forearm on the console. “There’s nothing I can do,” he admitted. “If the Doctor put the TARDIS is down to life support only, then only the Doctor can bring her back to life.”

“But he didn’t do that with mine,” she argued.

“ _His_ TARDIS is _this_ TARDIS,” he said with a shake in his head. “She’s going to remember…”

“She’s an earlier TARDIS than his,” Rose argued. “This one. She’s from an incarnation from that’s earlier than who he is now.”

Jack shot her a look of disbelief. “I’m sorry?” He looked at Martha and then back to Rose. “Earlier than..?” He threw his hands up. “You know what, never mind. Lives of Time Lords ...” He actually started to laugh, however. “No. The lives of the Doctor. I don’t think the rest of his kind would get themselves into a mess like that. Hell, I don’t think anyone would.”

Rose held back a chuckle of her own. “Please don’t laugh.”

“Really hard not to,” he admitted. He rubbed at the back of his neck and pressed his lips together as he looked to the dead console, wondering just what he could do to get this thing working again … it was going to take a minute, or maybe the week to sort out.

“I really don’t know how to get her operational again,” he said finally. His eyes shifted to her and her child. “Which means for the next little while you and Mark are stuck here.” He beamed a grin. “But lucky for you, Martha and I are here to help out.” He looked to Martha. “You _will_ help, right?”

She nodded furiously. “Yes. Yes, of course.” She looked to Rose. “I’ve met her Doctor, and I know how much he loves her. If anything happened to her…” She looked back to Jack. “Then I’d fear the fate of the entire universe.”

“I would fear for it now,” he agreed quietly. 

“IT’ll be okay,” Rose assured him. “This Doctor, he’s got a bit more control than the other two.”

“They’re usually the most dangerous,” Jack admitted. “At least with a maniac, you know what to expect.” He blew out a breath and walked toward Rose. He crouched down beside her. “You can stay with me for the next little while,” he offered. “Until your Doctor gets here.”

“I should stay here,” she declined politely, taking a look around. “If he comes, this is where he’ll look for us.”

He shook his head. “You don’t have a choice in the matter,” he commended. “I’m not having the two of you staying here alone. I’ve got a 2 bedroom flat in the single person’s quarters, you and Mark, you’re staying with me.” He flicked up a finger. “No arguments.” He looked into Mark’s eyes and gave him a wink. “So how about it, little Doctor, what about a few days with Uncle Jack?”

Mark blinked without comprehension. His expression was one of confusion and he looked up at his mother. He spoke curiously to his mother in quiet and suspicious tones. When she answered him back, he seemed to be satisfied. He shifted forward to move closer to Jack. “Un-cle Jack,” he attempted slowly. “Hell-o.”

Jack let out a laugh and petted the youngster on his head. “Well done! Your papa would be proud.” He looked to Rose. “Go pack a bag from the wardrobe room, and I’ll take you guys to my place. I promise you, if the Doctor shows up I’ll make sure he finds you.”

Rose nodded and lifted her boy off her knee to go pack them a bag. “I’ll be right back.”

“And while you’re there,” he called after her. “Can you find me a dress to wear to school on Monday?”

She disappeared into the corridor with a laugh. “I’ll find you something fabulous,” she called back.

~~oooOOOooo~~

They all arrived at Jack’s flat with only a ten minute walk from the TARDIS. With night already fallen, Rose had assumed that the heat would have dissipates somewhat to provide a little bit of comfort. She had been rather sorely mistaken. It was still ridiculously warm out, but unlike the daytime heat, which burned down from above, the night heat seemed to rise from the ground at their feet.

“Relentless,” she moaned as she heat of the concrete seemed to burn through the thin soles of her shoes. “Does it ever cool down here?”

Jack snickered. “Yeah, in June, I hear.”

“What Month are we in?”

“March.” Martha answered with a tug at her shirt collar.

She sighed. “Great.”

Jack held her hand tightly. “You’ve been living on Gallifrey for a while now, I guess,”

She nodded. “About seven years now.”

“I heard that it’s warm up there.” He looked around him. “Comparable to here.”

“We live under the southern mountains,” she said with a smile. “A little more temperate than here.”

They walked the stairs up to the balcony to Jack’s apartment, and stopped at some laughter from three doors down. Rose looked to the side and felt a shudder upon seeing Mr. Smith chuckling at a necking he was receiving from the pretty brunette from the sports field. She turned away, and then covered her son’s eyes with the flat of her palm so that he didn’t have to see it either.

“Really,” she hissed out unpleasantly in Gallifreyan, unsure if this kind of behaviour was actually acceptable here in this town, but wanting to express her displeasure. “Inappropriate behaviour in public,” she murmured as she followed behind the group into Jack’s flat.

There was an apology to her disgusted remark from the man in question that came to her in far more fluent Gallifreyan than she was able to speak. She paused half in and half out of the doorway, having to lean backward to look toward the owner of the voice.

John Smith, looking more like the Doctor than he had all day, stood tall with his shoulders back, and hes feet slightly parted. The cape he still wore off his shoulders hung low and billowed around his ankles like his thick coat did on a windy day.

“I’m so sorry, Rose,” he spoke in soft, but fierce Gallifreyan tones. “My Hearts, come home, I miss you. I miss you so much.” He inhaled a deep draw and lifted his head. "Please forgive me."

Rose’s head tilted and her breath escaped her quickly, she shifted her hand to push herself off the door.

“Oh John,” the brunette called out with a slurred laugh and a drunken slap on his shoulder. “What’re you saying now?”

His eyes cleared and he shook himself. He quickly spun to the woman and caught her as she stumbled and then hiccupped and covered her mouth as though holding back vomit. “Okay, Joan. Too much heat and alcohol are not a good combination for you, are they? I think it’s off to bed for you, young lady.”

He caught Rose’s movement out of the corner of his eye as she shook her head sadly. He stared at the void she left behind in her wake and felt something shift inside his chest. Something about her felt so familiar to him, like she should hold such meaning to him.

But that made no sense.

He shook his head and refocused his attention on the woman retching at her doorway. His lip curled with disgust, but he pulled her up into his arms and carried he into her flat.

“John,” she slurred. “Stay with me tonight?”

“Yeah,” he drawled breathlessly. “Okay.”


	39. 4WD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four-Wheel-Driving ... What a ride!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the desert adventure begins!
> 
> Though be warned that this chappy pretty much addresses something that I can't quite see Rose or even Martha ignoring... But now that it's all sorted, we can get to it!
> 
> Thanks so much for all of your comments over the past couple of days ... they've been awesome!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter... I'm working on another, so maybe we will get lucky and I'll post twice!
> 
> Not guaranteeing anything though.

~~oooOOOOoo~~

When morning came, Rose expected to be roused by the musical trilling of the trunkikes and swiflier birds that nested in the trees outside her bedroom window. They were her alarm clock, and were there fore here every morning without fail. She would wake, pet the mattress behind her to seek out the coolness of her husband’s body for a quick snuggle before they had to get out of bed. Maybe they’d engage in some lazy morning love making if Mark wasn’t yet up – oh but weren’t those opportunities few and far between.

Instead of musical trilling and singing, though, the racket that came in from outside was a raucous screech that was anything but relaxing and beautiful.

Her eyes snapped open and shifted immediately to a pinched wince of discomfort. Against her chest, her young son shifted and let out a groan of annoyance. “Make it stop,” he demanded on a sleepy croaky voice.

“Okay, baby,” she groaned as she lifted up to a seat and scratched at her hair in a wake up routine that included slapping her dry tongue over the roof of her mouth. She stretched her arms over her head and let out a long and shrill moan.

“Well,” Jack purred from the doorway. “A beautiful woman moaning in my bed. What a shame I’m not the one making her moan like that.”

Remembrance of where they were shifted into Rose’s mind, and what she’d witnessed last night on the balcony, and she half smiled. “You can cause moaning of a very different kind when it comes to me, Jack.”

“The moan of exasperation,” he agreed with a slump in the doorway. “Way to make a man feel good about himself, Rosie.”

She kissed her still waking child on his head and then slid out of the bed. Wearing only a camisole and her panties, she drew a breathy sound of approval from the man at the door. She shook her head as she passed him, kissing his cheek in friendly greeting. “Behave, Jack. Remember who I married and what he’d do to you if you thought anything other than friendly thoughts about me.”

He turned to follow her with his eyes as she padded to the small room that housed the toilet. “Thoughts are fine,” he corrected. “It’s acting on those thoughts that will bring about the wrath of Gallifrey.” He thumbed his nose cheekily. “And I think I’ve handled worse than a pissed off Time Lord.”

She winked around the door as she closed it behind her. “How about a territorial one?”

“Is your current one any more territorial than the old boy in leather?”

“Worse,” she sang out through the door. 

He scratched behind his ear and winced. He looked at the door when he heard the toilet flush. “Well, that might be worth considering going forward, although it does sound like it could be a good challenge.”

Rose wore a wide smile as she exited the toilet room and wandered to the bathroom to wash her hands. “Not exactly an efficient design,” she remarked. “Having to use two rooms to pee and wash my hands.” She looked around the doorway. “Mark,” she called in Gallifreyan. “Time to get up. Use the toilet, sweetheart, and I’ll take you to the TARDIS for breakfast.”

Jack only understood the word TARDIS from Rose’s call, and it was enough for him to shake his head. “No need to go back to the TARDIS,” he assured her. “I stopped by this morning to see if there was any life in the old girl.” He sighed and shook his head. “Nothing, I’m sorry.”

“And the Doctor?” she ventured although she already knew the answer. The pain and discomfort in her belly and head told her he was still so far away from them. 

He shook his head. “Nothing yet,” he answered softly. “But I did set up a warning communicator at her doors, to let me know if he or anyone else tried to gain entrance.”

Worry passed across her face. “Anyone else?”

Jack sniffed. “Something tells me he won’t come alone.”

Her lips curled up in a smile. “If Brax and Romana have any involvement in it, we’ll have an entire battle battalion on our doorstep.” She pressed her hand into the doorframe and looked toward her son, who was snuggling as deeply into the wolf’s fur as he could to not have to listen to the birds screeching outside. “We’re not supposed to leave Gallifrey.”

“How do you mean?”

“I really don’t know,” she breathed honestly. “Just that for some reason, the two of them are as protective of my safety as the Doctor is. Romana set a presidential order stating that neither the Doctor or I can leave Gallifrey without her permission.” Realising how that may sound to Jack, she gasped and hurried to explain. “Not that I want to leave at all. I’m so happy there.”

“And if the Doctor wanted to leave, he wouldn’t put up with any kind of order, presidential or not. He’d flip them the bird as he dematerialised out of there.” He touched her shoulder. “I get it.” He pursed his lips curiously, though. “Brax and Romana, are they friends of his, I mean the Doctor?”

She nodded. “Romana used to travel with him back in his early days. Brax is his brother.”

He half gagged. “Hold on. He has a _brother_?” He laughed. “Two of them in the universe? I really don’t know what to say about that.”

Rose laughed along with him, although her humour was more sentimental than one of amusement. “Very different men, Jack. If you think Thete has his pompous moments, Brax puts him to shame with how much of a pompous git he can be at times.”

“Thete?”

“The Doctor,” she corrected herself. 

There was a sparkle in his eyes. “His name is Thete?”

“Theta Sigma,” Rose said with a wink. “And it’s one of many, not his true name.”

“But you know it, right?” Jack pressed with a bump of his hip against hers. “And are willing to share that information with your old friend, Jack?”

She nodded, and then shook her head. “Yes, I know it. And no, I’m not telling you what it is.” She widened her eyes and scratched her hair. “You’d never be able to remember it anyway, it’s a long one.”

“Yeah, I heard the Time Lords have some pretty extreme length to their names.”

“Only because of chapterhouse affiliations and what-not,” she answered. “Their naming protocols include a hell of a lot of information about who they are.”

A heavy thumping at the door broke their conversation. Both Rose and Jack looked toward the door. Jack, rather than answering it, called out instead. “Who is it?”

“John,” a voice called back. “Steve told me to tell you to hurry up, he wants to get going before it gets too hot.”

“Like it could get any hotter out there,” he huffed to himself. He then lifted his head to call back. “Yeah, right. Tell him to give us ten minutes.”

“Right,” He chipped back through the door. “I’ll tell him you’re doing your makeup.”

“Fuck off, Smith,” he growled in reply. He looked apologetically to Rose. “I know you love the man, you know, when he’s the Time Lord and all, but let me give you fair warning. I’m going to drown him today.” He padded to the kitchen with annoyance in his frame. “Wish they had rattlesnakes here, I’d put one in his bag…”

Rose blinked with surprise. “This is Australia,” she said slowly. “Much more dangerous things here than rattlesnakes.”

“You’re right,” he chirped back with a smile. “I can put a redback in his shoe… Much more painful.”

“You really don’t like him, do you?”

Jack huffed out. “He gets on my nerves,” he admitted. “More than he ever did as the Time Lord.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how I didn’t suspect that man had a bit of Gallifrey in him.”

“But I thought you loved the Doctor?”

He smiled and cupped her face. “I do,” he whispered out. “The Doctor and his Rose Tyler.” His softness fell and he thumbed to the door. “But that idiot out there…”

“Is not the Doctor,” she interrupted gently. “And he can’t regenerate, so no drowning him or putting dangerous creatures into his shoes.”

“You are really taking the fun out of it, you know.”

She shrugged. “I’m a mother now, that’s my job.” She watched as he moved to the fridge and started to empty it into a large plastic cooler. “Are you going somewhere?”

His eyes lifted. “We all are. Road Trip to Kalgan’s Pool with some of the teachers from the high school.”

She shook her head. “No, Jack. We can’t. We have to stay here in case the Doctor arrives. If he finds the TARDIS, and we aren’t there to meet him, he’ll have a fit.”

“Yes, Rose, you can,” he corrected her. “Like I said, I was at the TARDIS today and have a warning system in place to alert us when he arrives.” He pointed to his wrist, and a bulbous leather strap and walked around the counter toward her. “I was able to repair my vortex manipulator in the TARDIS this morning. I can have you, Mark, and your wolf back in a second.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “I promise you I’ll get you to him, Rose. We’re only 90-mintes away anyway… and even if he gets that close and the alert doesn’t come through, he’ll be able to find you.”

“Promise me,” she demanded on a whisper. 

His mouth curled up slightly in a small and affectionate smile. He cupped the back of her head in his hand and pulled her forehead to his. “You’re the only person in the universe I can ever make a promise to and keep it, Rose. You have my word.” He smiled then. “And anyway, why would I want to miss an opportunity to see another one of him, and then piss him off by grabbing your ass so he can see it?”

She laughed and pushed his chest with both hands. “Flirtin’ with death, you are.”

“Always.” He flipped his hands in a shoo motion. “Now please. Get you and your boy ready. This lot outside will get antsy if leaving late means they have to wait an extra five minutes to start drinking their beer and Jim Beam cans.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Four Wheel driving was something that Rose Tyler had never done before. Even during the extensive travelling with the Doctor, the only truly bumpy part of any trip was a TARDIS landing. In other words: a one-second bump and fall packed with laughter.

This whole driving on unpaved rocky roads was something else entirely. She was pretty certain that her body would continue to feel these bumps and shudders long after the car had stopped – probably well into two years after the car stopped.

Her, Jack, Martha, Mark and the Wolf had all packed themselves into a white crew cab covered pickup truck that one of the other teachers had referred to as “the ute”. John Smith had attempted to get in the vehicle with them, but with a snarl from Jack, and then a siren call from the pretty English teacher, he had shrugged and moved to another vehicle instead. In all they were a convoy of five identical trucks, all of them tough, rugged, and more than capable of handling roads inaccessible by any other type of vehicle.

Mark was completely engrossed in the journey, and many times she had to pull him back from trying to poke his head out of the window and smiling against the winds. She had lost count of the times she had to warn him that it was dangerous to put any limb outside the window. It didn’t help her when Jack insisted on driving with one arm either resting along the window ledge, or handing out of the window completely.

And he certainly wasn’t the only driver doing it, nor passenger for that matter. It seemed to her that it was almost a cultural thing to have some body part hanging out of a car window when driving on roads not fit for actually driving on. Twice the trip became so perilous that the car was almost sideways on the rocky road.

Mark absolutely loved it, and cheered out excitedly every time the car tipped, rocked and jolted. While he couldn’t understand a word said by the youngster, Jack made all efforts to cheer on and chat to the boy.

“How’re you doing back there?” Jack asked her halfway into the trip when the road got particularly rocky. 

“I may need a cigarette when we’re done,” she muttered in reply, trying hard to get herself comfortable in her seat, whose springs kept popping and protesting the drive underneath her.

Martha laughed. “I might share one with you.” She looked to Jack. “Are you taking the roughest path on purpose?”

He shook his head. “This is actually the easiest track.” His eyes flashed and he quickly slowed the movement of the vehicle and let out a small “oop. You might want to hang on to the girls, ladies. This is going to get bumpy.”

“Because it’s been smooth this whole time?” Martha barked out incredulously as she folded her arms across her chest in preparation for this _bumpy section_.

“Ahhh,” he huffed out with a shake in his voice from the bumps in the road. “Yeah, sorry about that. All worth it, though I promise you.” He looked up to the rear view mirror at the car behind them and lifted a hand to adjust it. He let out a laugh. “Looks like Smith’s not handling the trip all that well.”

Rose twisted in her seat to look behind them. “He’s not driving, is he?”

“Nah,” Jack said with a laugh. “Back seat, just threw up out the window.”

Martha looked horrified and twisted in her seat. “He did what? Is he okay? Should we stop?”

“He’s the third one to lose their breakfast,” he said with a shrug. “Some people just don’t travel well. Especially those that got drunk last night after the carnival.”

“I’m getting close myself,” Rose muttered. “Are we almost there?”

“Water bottle in the back,” he advised her with a look at her through the mirror. “I grabbed some anti-nausea tablets from the TARDIS, take a couple, you’ll be fine.” He finally put both hands on the steering wheel and drew them to a stop as the car ahead of them braked to begin navigation of a particularly treacherous section of the path. “Probably another ten minutes at least.” 

Rose cracked open a water bottle and dropped back a pair of pills. She was still swallowing her water as she passed the pill package and water bottle to Martha up front. “So Jack. How’d you end up here?”

“Long story,” he answered on a breath. 

“We’ve got time, apparently.” She leaned back to pet her wolf’s neck. “It seems strange for you to end up here.”

Martha swallowed a mouthful of water and twisted in her chair to sit almost sideways to give him her full attention. “Rose is right. Of all the places to end up, how you end up here? You have a vortex manipulator, you could go anywhere, any time.”

He shook his head. “Until this morning, my vortex manipulator was out of service.” He sighed and looked up at Rose through the mirror. “After the game station and the Daleks, when the Doctor abandoned me…”

“Abandoned?” she asked with a frown. “No. He didn’t do that. He told me that you stayed behind to help rebuild.”

He looked back to the road. “No, Rose. He left me there.”

“I didn’t know, Jack, I’m so sorry.” Her face was pained. “If I knew, I would’ve told him to go back.”

“I know, Sweetheart,” he said with a nod. “At first I was hurt, and I mean shattered by being abandoned like that.”

“How’d you get off the station?”

He held up his wrist. “I had one trip left in this thing. I managed to send myself back to the 1890’s. Got stuck there.”

Rose looked horrified, while Martha looked incredibly confused. “But that’s a century ago, Jack,” Martha noted.

He didn’t look to them, only ahead. “Yeah. Look good for a centurian, right?”

“Jack, how?” Rose asked worriedly. 

“That’s what I need to ask the Doctor,” he said with slight darkness in his tone. “When we got to the game station, I was mortal. When I left, I wasn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t die, Rose,” he answered her. “When I die, I don’t stay dead. I don’t age, and I don’t die.”

“You’re not makin’ any sense,” Rose commented. “How can that be?”

Martha eyeballed him. “Are you a Time Lord like him?” she thumbed back over her shoulder. 

“One, he’s not a Time Lord right now, and two, no. I’m no anything like himt.” He blew out a breath. “I’m human, just like the two of you.” He rolled his eyes. “Except that I can’t die.”

“Are you sure?” Martha asked with a frown of disbelief.

“Quite sure,” he answered. “I’ve died plenty of times, and have always simply woken up.” Martha opened her mouth but he stopped her with a rise of the finger. “And yes, I was definitely dead, so don’t ask me if I am quite sure that it was done right…”

“I wasn’t going to,” she replied softly. “I was just going to say that I’m sorry you have had to live through that. It mist be so lonely.”

“Watching everyone you love die,” Rose added with a look backward to the car behind him as she remembered the sadness in the Doctor’s eyes when he spoke of watching those he loves wither and die. “I’m so sorry.”

He took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. She could tell by the shudder in his breath that wasn’t from the bumpy road, that it was a topic that upset him. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he assured her. “And if my long life means that I get to see you again, Rosie, then it’s all worth it.” He smiled. “For a hundred years all over been doing is biding my time until I can see you and the Doctor again. Until yesterday, I thought I had to wait at least another fourteen years until our timelines matched up again.”

Rose touched his shoulder. “Jack…”

“Oh look,” he chirped in, telling both women that the line of conversation was officially terminated. “Here we are.” He pulled to a sharp stop and was out the door before the wheels had stopped their skid on loose gravel. Rose couldn’t help but notice the way that he wiped at his eye as he walked to the back of the vehicle.

She looked to Martha. “Make sure he doesn’t abandon him again,” she pleaded softly. “The Doctor, I mean.” 

“I’ll make sure of it,” she vowed.


	40. Play Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shoulder fights and old songs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's for Toester, who tells me that it's okay for me to post more than one chapter a day.
> 
> It's a short one, but hopefully a good one. :)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> GK

~~oooOOOooo~~

The heat that assaulted Rose when she stepped out of the vehicle was intense, but was not so much so that she couldn’t take a long moment to appreciate the view outside. It was spectacular. The convoy had stopped in a clearing in front of a large waterhole surrounded by high red-faced and jagged cliffs and smooth barked trees with khaki-green leaves that swayed in the warm breeze.

She lifted her hand to shield her eyes against the blazing sun burning overhead to look into a blue sky absent of any clouds at all. There wasn’t even a light swoop of white to break up the perfect blue.

“It’s beautiful,” isn’t it?” John Smith said to her softly from behind. He stepped up beside her and slipped his hands into the pockets of his knee-length camel-coloured shorts. “I’ve been around a bit, myself. Travelled a lot. Seen plenty of amazing sights.”

“Too touristy, though, most of them,” Rose offered.

He turned to her with surprise. “And you don’t find fascination in the locals?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes the peaceful and untouched places are the most awe inspiring. People can be annoying.”

“Yeah,” Jack muttered as he walked past the two of them with his arms lifted high enough so that Mark could swing off it. “Especially pompous twits from London.”

John smiled. “You know, if I didn’t know better, Horn, I’d say you were jealous.”

“Of what?” he scoffed. He eyes him up and down with contempt. “Pale skinny white guy?” He ran the hand of his free arm down along his body in presentation. “Versus this carefully crafted physique. God spent a lot of time creating me, Smith.”

John Smith rubbed at his chin with exaggerated scrutiny of the man in front of him. Finally he smirked and shrugged. “Adonis though you may be, the skinny pale white boy was the one that won the girl, which is the entire purpose of it.” He looked to Rose with a smile. “Isn’t that right?”

“In my experience,” she answered back coolly. “It was the skinny pale white boy that lost the girl who loved him.” She held her hand out to Mark and shifted into Gallifreyan to ask him to leave Jack alone and come to her. She could feel John’s eyes on her heavy with much more scrutiny that he’d used on Jack, and did her very best to ignore it. “Jack, is there anything I can help with to set up?”

He shook his head. “Nah, Gorgeous. I’ve got it in hand. How about the pair of you cool off in the water.”

She eyeballed the water suspiciously. “Is there anything in there that might try and kill me?”

“You’re really quite safe,” John offered quietly. “Although I would recommend sunblock. I can apply it for you if you like.” He held up a tube and gave her a toothy grin. He took a step toward her, but found himself held back by a small little hand pressed into his belly from the young boy at her side. His green eyes were dark in warning as he shook his head and he cautioned him in Gallifreyan to back off to a more respectful distance from his mother.

“My,” he breathed out. “A rather protective little fellow, isn’t he?”

“He learned that from his father,’ she said with a smile down to her youngster. Her eyes lifted. “My _husband_.”

His mouth dropped open and his face lifted with realisation. “Ahh. Yes. The not so subtle warning that you are well and truly off the market and so all marauding males should stand down.” His eyes flicked to her hand. “As if the gigantic diamond you’re wearing wasn’t warning enough of your marital status.” He shrugged and walked away. “I was only being polite.”

Martha brushed past John as she moved down to meet up with Rose and Mark at the water’s edge. She noted his straightened shoulders and his lip curled in annoyance. “Everything okay, John?”

His face split into a smile. “Perfectly fine, Martha. On a day like today, why wouldn’t it be?” The smile fled and he slipped his hands into his pockets as he walked toward the group setting up tents near the trees. “Peachy, very peachy.”

She turned and walked backward, her brows high. After a few steps she shrugged and spun to walk forward toward Rose and Mark. She held out a bottle of beer for Rose, and a triangle-shaped frozen juice box for Mark. The youngster’s eyes widened with curiosity and glee when he squeezed the bottom, and a raspberry flavoured frozen treat popped up. He didn’t even look to his mother for permission before he plonked but little butt on a rock and noisily slurped at it.

“What happened with John?” Martha asked Rose.

Rose shrugged as she drew back a long draw on the ice cold beer and despite it having a far stronger flavour than she was used to, she purred at the taste. Her eyes looked up at where John was not happily chatting with the other teachers. “I think I managed to offend him by reminding him that I am married.”

“Dare I ask why that had to even come up?”

Rose huffed a laugh. “Best you don’t. But it may have involved the suggestion of sunblock and if he should apply it.”

“Brazen,” Martha noted with wide eyes. “And very unlike him.”

“Him as in John,” Rose remarked with a shrug. “Not so much for the Doctor. Tends to forget, sometimes, that he can be _suggestive_ , even when it’s unintentional.” She hooked her hair over her ear. “For someone so smart, he can really be so very dumb sometimes.”

Loud music began to pump across the park, blaring from the open doors of one of the trucks. “Hey,” one of the female teachers cheered out to the group. “This is the newest one by Salt-n-pepa. I love this song!!”

Martha and Rose both looked to each other with wide eyes of utter amusement as the woman began pumping and grinding along to Let’s Talk about Sex.

“This song is so old,” Rose murmured.

“But still a good one,” Martha offered with a smile over the lip of her bottle of beer. Her eyes flicked to Jack, who was happily joining in the dancing. “If I’m not mistaken, it was probably written specifically for Jack.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

The day wore on with plenty of beer and liquor being consumed by the entire group. No one seemed to really consider that alcohol and hotter-than-Gallifrey temperatures was a bad combination, but when heads began to get hazy, the party shifted into the water.

For the most part, Rose sat on the water’s edge, dangling her feet in the water and kicking a spray of water up at herself to cool down. This place was no Crystal Cascades, but it was beautiful in its own way. The water was murky and in some places cloudy and green, but she was assured of its safety by almost every member of the party, most of whom had spent many weekends camping here in an attempt to escape the relative boredom of a tiny little town with not a lot of excitement to offer outside of football matches and the local pubs.

She kept a wary eye on her child, who was happily bouncing between the party-goers. Although the youngster couldn’t communicate verbally with any of them, he seemed to quickly make friends of the men, and was adopted in a cooing kind’ve way by the girls. At all times Tiallu was protectively at his side, nudging him out of the deeper waters, and letting him climb into her back to ride as she swam.

Sitting by the water, she didn’t seem to get involved in as much of the fanfare as all of the others. The unsettling feeling in her belly and in her head weren’t lending her to want to have too much of a good time. Much of that was through guilt, of course. She knew that across the other side of the Universe, millions of light years away, her husband was probably out of his mind with worry for them. How could she possibly fully immerse herself in such fun when he was obviously in distress…

…because she knew he would be distressed.

A shadow fell over her in the form of Jack Harkness. He was dripping wet and swaying slightly with too much alcohol. His hands were set firmly into his hips and he had a glare in his eyes that was most discomforting.

She held her hand up over her eyes as a visor against the sun and looked up at him. “Hello Jack. You okay?”

“No,’ he answered in a huff.

“Why, what’s wrong?” She looked around him. “Tell me you didn’t drown him…”

“No,’ he sighed as he released the hold on his hips and slumped. “Not through lack of trying, of course. But for a skinny dude, he’s surprisingly very strong.”

She focused on the group in the distance. There was currently a shoulder-fight battle going on. John had Joan up on his shoulders and they were sparring against a man called Steve and his Vietnamese partner Thuy for supremacy.

“Oh my,” she said with a chuckle. “Who was your partner?”

“You,” he huffed out. “And by not joining us, you’re forcing me to forfeit the match. Which I don’t believe is entirely fair of you.”

“You have Martha,” she offered with a smile. “I bet she could take down any competitor.”

He shook his head. “Alvin’s with her,” he muttered. “Slippery goat got to her before I could.”

She beamed a grin. “You just don’t seem to be having any luck at all with the ladies, do you?”

He held out his hand. “I’ve got you.”

She shook her head. “No, Jack. I really can’t.”

He kept his hand out. “You need to stop worrying about the Doctor and try to enjoy yourself while you’re here.”

“But…”

“He’d be disappointed to know that you spent your entire time here pining away when you could have enjoyed yourself,” he argued. “And don’t argue me on that. I know him, Rose. He’d want you to experience the beauty and thrill of a place you’ve never seen before. I bet he’ll want you to tell him all about it and have that cheesy grin of love and adoration for you on his face the whole time.”

He was right. Of course he was. The Doctor might be having a fit now, but he would be more tormented to know that she was a mess for the entire time they were apart if she didn’t have to. With a nod she took his hand and let him pull her to a stand. “Okay, Jack. Let’s do this, then.”

He pulled her flush up against him and slopped a big, wet kiss to her mouth, pulling back fast before Mark could come running and cursing at him in that adorable language of his. “Come on, Rosie. Let’s kick the arse of John Smith and Joan Redfern, shall we?”

~~oooOOOOooo~~

John watched the interaction with Jack and Rose at the water’s edge out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t quite understand why it bugged him so much that the two of them were so friendly and even affectionate toward each other.

He didn’t even know why it was that the woman seemed to be able to command his entire focus. Why it was that she seemed so damn familiar to him… And why all he wanted to do was to curl her into the crook of his arm and protect her from harm…

…And from Jack.

Joan shifted hard on his shoulders, signalling that she’d won the battle against Marth and Alvin. Her elated bounding atop his shoulders was heavy and uncomfortable and he staggered a bit to maintain balance.

“Who’s next?” Joan called out victoriously. “Who wants to take on the reigning champions?”

“That’d be us,’ Rose called out as she and Jack waded into the waters. “Prepare to be usurped!”

John watched them approach with wary eyes. He’d been standing in shoulder-deep waters with a woman’s legs wrapped around his head for a good half hour now. And as delightful as that image should have been, it was right now anything but delightful. He was tiring and ready for a drink and a sit down.

“Mama!” Mark called from the rocks, where he sat next to Martha with a sausage wrapped in bread and tomato sauce in his hand held up over his head in greeting and excitement. “Win this for Gallifrey!”

“Will do, baby,” she called back in their shared language. She then looked to Jack. “So. Ehm. How am I supposed to get up there…”

He grinned salaciously and waggled how brows. “Just open up your legs, beautiful, and I’ll get myself between them.”

“I bet you will,” John snarled.

“Jealous?” he teased and then disappeared underneath the waters.

Rose looked around her with a frown as she felt him swim around her, then his arms hooked around the back of her legs, his head popped through in between them. With a shrill yelp of shock and thrill, she was quickly thrust up and out of the water, firmly seated on the broad shoulders of her best friend.

John’s face lengthened into an unreadable expression as he watched Rose being lifted from the water. Her head was thrown backward and her mouth open in a gleeful laugh. Sun shone like glitter off the water on her shoulders and the swell of her breasts not covered by her lycra swimsuit. He felt his breath catch and a similar image course past his consciousness, an image from long ago… a different life..

“John?” Joan wriggled on his shoulders, practically kicking him like one would a horse to get it to move. “Snap out of it. We’ve got a battle to win here.”

“Yeah,” he drawled out wetly, spitting out a mouthful of water that he’d managed to suck in after sliding in the mud at his feet. “What’s the score now, Harkness,” he asked with a curl in his lip. “Smith 3, Harkness 0?”

Jack’s head angled to one side. “The name is Horn,” he corrected with a tic in his eye. He hadn’t gone by Harkness since arriving in town trying to escape the Judoon, who were on his tail. He had certainly not used it since meeting Smith.

Curious.

“Let’s do this,” Jack seethed out. “My Rose will slaughter yours.”

John’s shoulders locked as he tried to maintain the weight on his shoulders as the two women battled each other to tear the other off the shoulders of her partner. Jack’s eyes eye high on the fight, ad glistened with excitement as he cheered on his Rosie to kick her skinny little ass.

John’s eyes lifted with an attempt to show as much enthusiasm, but the paused at the expose gap of skin just above the waistband of Rose’s bikini, and to the edges of the silver striping of stretchmarks. Her badge of honour from carrying her little boy.

Images of that belly heavy and swollen with child, bare and exposed to him as he trailed soft and reverent kisses on each line suddenly danced across his mind. Kisses up and over the full rise of the stomach, on the popped bump of her navel. He paused to look into her heavily lidded eyes and followed the crook of her finger inviting him to crawl up and along her body to finally settle against her back, his swollen length pressed against her rear. Words in a language he didn’t even know he understood fell reverently through his lips as he drew her leg up and over her hip and with a single forward thrust of his hips, he sheathed himself completely inside her…

John gasped out almost painfully and dunked himself completely in the water. He threw Joan off his shoulders and scrambled quickly to shore. He crawled out of the water rather than stand and run and with one hand braced against the tree, he retched into a spinifex bush at its base.

He heard his name called from the water and merely waved backward at them as his stomach lurched again. When done, he pressed both hands into the tree ahead of him and pressed his forehead against them.

Images of a life he’d never lived flooded his mind. His nightly dreams of a life with a faceless woman on another planet, of laughter and of love, most of them somewhat nonsensical and out of place for a Science geek who had only ever travelled between London and Australia – despite stories he told otherwise.

He panted and looked over his shoulder toward where Rose and Jack were sharing a victory hug with Martha and little Mark. Her laughter, and the lyrical sound of it skipping across the waters toward him confirmed his suspicions. The sudden clarity had his hands clutch tighter at the tree trunk.

The faceless woman in his dreams. The one who held his heart in her hands and promised him her entire world, was Rose.


	41. Campfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a pretty night....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Chapter chopped to almost nothing.... Didn't end up liking the original so I scrapped most of it.
> 
> This is the part that survived.
> 
> New chapter to follow.

~~oooOOOooo~~

Night fell quite quickly over the waters and craggy hillside of Kalgan’s Pool. There was barely a moment for Rose to appreciate a Pilbara sunset before the sky had shifted from a brilliant light blue to a deep star speckled sky. Much of that time was taken helping the ladies out with the barbecue dinner setup while the lads made a large firepit near the water’s edge. With the dry wood and sticks that were scattered around the area, they quickly had a large fire roaring and whoomphing loudly.

For a long while, young Mark had watched, completely entranced by the shadows dancing across the craggy rocky edge of the high stone cliff. He spoke softly to his mother as a story teller making up a tale to entertain her. But he quickly drew tired and asked to go to sleep. Right now, he was snuggled up in his tent, with his protective wolf on watch at the doorway.

He wasn’t the only one to have passed out from too much revelry and heat from the day. At least a third of the campers had crashed in various places and to various degrees of unconsciousness. Random newly formed and possibly one night only couples had peeled off to engage in some more private one-on-one drunken antics. This left a group of around ten people still milling around the fire. Jack, Martha. John, Joan, Alvin, Thuy, Cass, Steve, Mary, and herself.

John and Jack, who had really been at odds for most of the day, had seemed to bury the hatchet for now. Possibly because they were both close to total inebriation. Now they sat, arm over shoulder with Mary and Alvin, at the furthest edge of the fire in a small grouping singing along drunkenly to the strumming of Mary’s guitar.

Very Koombayah…

She lifted her eyes up and over the fire on several occasions to look upon the group. Most of the time, they were focused only on each other and whatever song they’d chosen to sing. Once in a while, however, her eyes would meet those of either Jack or John, and she’d receive a friendly smile and a wave of invitation to join them. She’d signal a polite no by tipping her beer bottle in salute … a warm beer bottle. She hadn’t actually drunk from it in more than an hour. But if she dared put it down or indicate that her bottle might be empty, a new one would be almost immediately put into her hand. She really didn’t want to drink and get drunk like the rest of them…

And they were. The whole damn lot of them. 

“Rose!”

She looked up to Martha, who was near the tents, crouched in front of a large metal cooler digign in half melted ice for a drink. “What’s up?”

“Need another one?” she asked with a wiggle of bottle that was dripping wet.

She held up her own warm bottle and shook her head. “I’m fine, thanks. Still working on this one.”

Joan gave a huffed laugh. “been working on that one for a while now, Rose,” she said with a slur. “What’s wrong, don’t like Australian beer?”

Rose shrugged. She leaned forward on the rickety plastic lawn chair given to her by Alvin earlier in the day, and let the beer bottle hang between her knees. “Really more of a vodka drinker,’ she admitted. “Beer is okay, I suppose, in small doses.”

“Yeah, right,” Joan answered with a tilt of her bottle toward the tent she intended on sharing with John. “There’s a bottle of Smirnoff in there if you want a swig.” She sucked back from her bottle. “But I don’t’ have any OJ or sprite to mic it.”

“I’ll be okay,” she replied with a smile. “But thanks anyway.”

“Yeah, no worries,” she called back distractedly as she received a nudge of the shoulder from Cass. “Yeah, whatd’ya want?”

“Me’n the girls,” she looked around the group. “We want the juice.”

“On what?”

“You and Smith,” she sang back, tipping her bottle around the group to indicate that she spoke for all. “We all want the details on you and him, and what he’s got to offer a girl.”

Martha and Rose blanched and shook their heads. “Actually, no,” Rose muttered. “Not all of us. Much rather not hear it, ta.”

Joan shrugged. “Not really much to tell you. We haven’t had sex yet.”

Alvin choked on his beer. “Hang on, what? You’ve been with him for weeks, now.”

Cass tipped her beer at her. “And I’ve seen the hickeys on your neck after a date with him. Don’t start playing coy and pretending nothin’s happened with you two.” She winked. “We know better. We see the signs of a good fuck having taken place.” She sucked back a draw from her bottle and swallowed with a wince. “So spill. Inquiring minds want to know, and boxes need to be ticked.”

Joan slumped back in her chair and let out a long moan. She then straightened up and leaned forward, passing a look toward the man in question before lowering her voice in a conspiratorial manner. “Look. Ask me tomorrow, alright. We haven’t screwed yet, but I ‘m plannin’ on jumping him later on tonight. So keep clear of my tent, alight.”

“Still not beliving nothing’s happened yet,” Alvin accused. He drew his fingers down his neck. “You’re still fading from the one you showed up with on Tuesday.”

“I didn’t say we haven’t made out and played with each other a bit,” she countered. “And he’s certainly got the foreplay down pat. Oh, God, his tongue and what he can do with it…”

Rose shuddered and quickly rose to a stand. “Excuse me,” she blustered. Her movements were so quick that she kicked over her chair. 

“You alright there, Rose?” Alvin asked curiously.

Her face creased. She really didn’t want to admit that she didn’t want to be privy to any part of this conversation, and appear to be a Debbie Downer. Instead she waved her hand and shrugged. “Need to pee. But carry on, I’m sure the sex life of Mr. Smith and his pretty girlfriend is far to important to put on pause until I get back.” She looked to Martha with pain in her eyes. “Can you keep an eye on Mark?”

Martha nodded. “Yeah, sure. No worries.”

The conversation started up again as she dodged around chairs and walked away from the fire. Jack lifted his head with protective question as he watched her leave, but she waved him down and mouthed that she needed to go pee. He gave her a nod and went back to singing with the others.


	42. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose goes to pee, gets cornered by John

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You will note that the beginning of this chapter is familiar. That's because it is.
> 
> Yesterday's chapter bugged me. It bugged me a lot. And while it wasn't necessarily bad, it put me in a position where it would be Eight who was the champion of this arc. I decided that no, that wasn't fitting here. This is Ten's moment to shine.
> 
> I could have had some fun, of course, but ultimately ... this is Ten's gig.
> 
> So that said: I scrapped about 70% of the end of yesterday's chapter and rewrote to the tune of around 4000 words...
> 
> Now, I am happy with it, and can proceed in the way I wanted to go.
> 
> I really apologise to those who enjoyed an almost fully awakened Ten ... I hope you like the changes.

~~oooOOOooo~~

Back when she was travelling full-time with the Doctor, Rose had learned pretty quickly that one wouldn’t always be afforded full privacy for a quick and urgent pee. Not everywhere they landed had full washroom facilities, or even a decent sized shrub or tree to hide behind. Many times she’d just tell the Time Lord that he needed to turn around and whistle or something because she was about to burst. He never seemed to mind at all. In fact he remarked one day when she squatted and he happened to turn around before she was complete, and she squeaked for him to turn back around, that he didn’t know why she should be so embarrassed about it. It was a perfectly natural body function. Why Humans were so hung up on it, he didn’t quite understand.

He remarked that everyone did it – for Rassilon’s sake - and even went so far as to stand beside where she was still squatted, but no longer peeing, and undid the fly of his black trousers, released himself, and then proceeded to do the same. He shrugged when he looked down at her and said that whatever went in had to come out, so don’t be embarrassed about it. He wasn’t.

Well. No man ever is, really. They piss, fart, and shit without fear nor shame – hell they’re most often proud of it.

So that said, it didn’t take her an awfully long time to lose her inhibitions and be able to freely pee in front of him before she got tot the point where she might rupture her bladder and, I dunno, maybe die?

Tonight, however, with the grouping as large as it was, she felt that privacy might be for the best. Earlier during the day, the ladies had noted a rather private area just up over the rocks that gave good shielding for a good pee. She quickly found the spot and whistled to herself as she dropped into a crouch and did what she needed to do. When she rose from her crouch and pulled her panties back up, she lifted her head and took a good look at the night sky above.

The raging fire they had down at the water’s edge had been too bright to see the full splendor of a Pilbara night sky. But now, standing atop a high cliff with the fire burning down below, she could finally see the sky in all it’s magnificent glory. It was breathtaking to behold, so much so, that she found herself stumbling backward to lightly collide with a boulder. She immediately sat down and held her hand to her chest to look up with reverent awe.

She’d heard about the Aurora Borealis in North America. The Doctor had taken her to see them when she and the him were still travellers and he still wore leather. Together they stood on a pebbled lakeside edge, hand in hand and both gasping at the green lights dancing overhead. He’d lectured her gently about the lights and just what caused them, and together they’d just stood and watched for what felt like hours. Back then, she thought the night sky was beautiful, and that never again in her life would she see anything as amazing on Earth ever again. 

God, was she wrong about that.

The sky at night was just as clear as the daytime had been. The sun had been gone for at least three hours now, and they were fast approaching the darkest part of night. Yet, she didn’t see darkness at all. London skies were black with a smattering of white stars and maybe the light of a moon to guide a traveller. Here in the outback the sky couldn’t have been more different. The sky was more a navy blue than a deep black. The stars shining down were so abundant as to almost be a complete sky of white. There was a magnificently brilliant illuminated cloud of orange and white that spread across the centre of the sky. She could immediately tell that it wasn’t a vapor-filled cloud within the Earth’s atmosphere. This was a spread of magnificent light deep within the universe above them, possibly thousands of light years away, and just as many light years across.

“Oh Doctor,” she breathed to herself, wishing he was with her to see this. “You need to see this.”

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Rose gasped with fright at the soft yet masculine voice to her left. The hand that was held with reverence between her breasts now pressed hard against her chest, trying to hold in her heart that was threatening to burst free. “Jesus, John!” she gasped out. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he murmured as he took a seat on the boulder beside her and looked upward. “What you’re looking at up there is what’s known as the Milky Way. It’s the name of the galaxy where Earth is located. It’s formed of several billions of starts, including out own sun.”

Rose turned her head to watch him speak, mesmerised by his voice.

“The Galaxy is believed to be about one hundred thousand light years across, and about ten thousand light years thick. It’s not always visible, what with light pollution blocking it out. But out here, where there’s no light at all, we can see it.” He let out a breath. “And it’s absolutely beautiful.”

Rose shifted her gaze from him and looked upward.

“This is the only way to see it,” he continued. “The best way to see it, really.” His eyes widened and he blew a puff of air through pursed lips. “Unless we can fly into space and take a picture, at any rate. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

She nodded, knowing first hand that sitting at the open doors of the TARDIS in flight afforded the most amazing scenery of the universe. “It would be lovely, wouldn’t it?”

He leaned backward, pressing his hands into the boulder, still warm from the day. His right arm was so close to Rose that his thumb touched at her bum. He didn’t seem to notice, and she certainly didn’t flinch away from him.

“I’ve always been fascinated with the stars,” he admitted. “Dabbled in astronomy at university. Well, I say dabbled, but I really got quite involved in the study.”

She laughed only as loud as her breath. “I bet.” She cast her eyes upward, wondering just where Gallifrey resided in amongst all those stars.

John leaned to his right, moving close to her as he lifted his left arm to point toward a large star above that, unlike the others, didn’t twinkle. “I think you’re looking for that one,” he said. He shifted his face to look at her, but didn’t lower his hand. “Right there.”

Rose’s breath shuddered. There was no possible way that he knew about Gallifrey, was there? She kept her eyes high, even leaned just slightly to look up along the length of his arm to the very tip of his finger. “What star is that?”

“Venus,” he answered softly, his breath kissing at her cheek. He swallowed thickly, but didn’t take his eyes away from her side profile. “The second planet in our solar system, our brightest star, and the one named for love and beauty.”

She didn’t look down at him. Her head remained looking up into the sky. “And why do you think that’s the one I was looking for?”

He couldn’t take his eyes from her. “Maybe it’s the one I was looking for,” he breathed out softly.

Rose turned her head to face him and gasped at his proximity. Close enough that their noses almost touched. So close that it would only take a shrug in his shoulders for their lips to meet. She didn’t pull away from him, but she wasn’t about to close the distance between them either. “John,” she said with gentle warning. “What’re you doing?”

He didn’t pull back to a more respectful distance. He held his position firm and lowered his hand in such a manner as to touch gently at her hair. “I’m showing you the stars,” he answered quietly, his fingers tracing her ear and her jaw. His eyes lifted in a searching manner from her lips to her eyes. “Is that alright?”

“No it’s not,” she answered with a crease in her face as she abruptly turned from him. She stood up fast from the rock and held herself as she took a step away. “You’ve got a girlfriend,” she charged him. “And I’m married. What part of this …” She flicked her finger at him. “What you were just doing .. do you think is _alright_ ”

“Quite a bit, actually,’ he answered back with a narrowing in his eyes. He didn’t get up from the boulder, he didn’t even adopt a defensive position. Instead he leaned back on his arms and gazed at her with fierce intensity. “In fact it all feels quite alright to me, more than. It feel so right.”

Her look at him with filled with incredulity. “This is your _problem_ ,” she growled out. She spun to put her back to him. Her voice dropped to a low and inaudible whisper. “And why I left in the first place.”

“ _My_ problem?” he questioned without hostility in his tone. “Rose, my only problem is that you’re married.”

She stilled as she considered that one. She couldn’t work out just exactly what he was driving at with that remark. Before she could formulate any kind of response, through, he continued.

“Which means you’re going to go home to him.”

She spun to face him, still lounging on the boulder. “Yes. That’s how it works, John. I’m married to the man I love and honour and will therefore return to my husband as quickly as is possible.” She held up her finger when she saw he was about to comment. “Without being touched by another man.”

“What if it’s the _same_ man?”

She winced with annoyance. “You’re not even making sense now,” she growled. “Go home, Doctor, you’re obviously drunk.” She turned her back on him again, and although her arms were folded tightly across her chest, she was able to flick her wrist in a pretentious gesture of dismissal. “Go wrap your tie around your head and invent Banana Daquiris in the French Court or something. You’re good at that.”

“Now who’s the one not making sense,” he purred in her ear, making her jump yet again. 

“Christ,” she yelped out. “Will you stop doing that! Wear a bell or something.”

His hands slipped into the pockets of his shorts, and although wearing a pair of thongs on his feet, he rolled back onto his heels, leaning his chest forward to counter his weight and maintain his balance. “Why did you call me Doctor?”

Her eyes flicked toward him but were shifted to the space in front of her just as quickly. “My bad,” she admitted with a shrug. “Sorry about that. You just reminded me of someone, and I guess..”

“So you’re angry with him,” he ventured. “And you’re taking it out on me.” He pressed his lips together and nodded. “I get it.”

“No,” she corrected. “I’m angry with you. Specifically you. You, because you have a girlfriend who’s right now sitting by the fire telling everyone how good your tongue is and how she plans to have sex with you tonight, and then you’re up here hitting onto a married woman who really doesn’t want to do either …” She cleared her throat with obvious discomfort. “Not with you, at any rate.”

“Well,” he drawled with a laugh. “When you put it _that_ way.” His arms shifted out of his pockets and he folded them against his chest. “And for the record, Joan isn’t my _girlfriend_.” He silently kissed the air in front of him. “She’s just _company_.”

“Company who knows how well you use your tongue,” she remarked coldly. “And who you give love bites to, what, when you get bored?”

He frowned at her. “I’m thirty-five years old.”

“Well good for you,” she shot back. “Way to bring up a very irrelevant point of note about yourself.”

He shook his head. “No, Rose. You aren’t really hearing me.” He stood at her side and put his hands on her shoulders. “I’m a thirty-five year old man, not a seventeen year old. Hickeys are what teenagers do, not men my age.”

“hen how’s she getting them?” she asked sharply.

“You tell me,” he retorted with a flick of his wrist. “But she’s not getting them from me.”

Her eyes blinked. “Oh. So all she said about, well…”

“Oh we fool around,” he admitted in an almost chipper tone of voice. “Mutual masturbation and the such. I won’t deny that…”

“Oh come on,” she moaned. “John, really? Is there any need to be so blunt and raw about it?”

He tipped his head to her to offer her a look of incredulous indignance. “Oh come on, Rose. When have you ever known me to be anything less than blunt and brutally honest with you?”

  
“I’ve known you for five minutes,” she growled in reply. “And this is the most that you and I have ever spoken.”

He regarded her for a long moment, analysing her posture and her increased breathing. “If that’s the case,” he queried. “Then why does it upset you so much to think about me with another woman?”

She slumped with disbelief. “It’s not that I’m upset you’re with another woman,” she corrected sharply. “I’m upset that I have to hear about it.” She clenched her hands into fists at her side. “You know what? This conversation is over. Go back down there, drink some more beer, and engage in whatever mutual _whatever_ you want to engage in!” She turned abruptly and too a step forward. Her ankle brushed against the sharp points of a spinifex bush, and in her hurry to get away from it, stumbled backward. Her slip took her to the edge of the cliff and she yelped when she realised that she was about to fall over the edge.

Strong arms caught her instead, and she was quickly pulled in against a sweated and heaving chest. “I’ve got you, Rose,” he vowed with all the fierceness of her Doctor. “I’ve got you..”

She shuddered inside his hold, panting as he slowly walked them backward from the edge, his arms tightly around her and his nose in her hair. “You-You caught me,” she whimpered out breathlessly.

“Always,” he vowed.

She looked up at him, into familiar brown eyes full of hope and wonder, and felt a sudden urge to simply roll up onto her toes and press her lips against his. But she smelt the scent of beer on his breath, and the thumping of only a single heart against her breasts, and quickly pulled away. She shuddered as she dropped her head and tucked her hair behind her ear. She looked to the ground, looked left, and then right, anywhere except for those patient brown eyes. “Thank you.”

“Risht,’ he managed out hoarsely himself as he lifted a hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Sure. No problem.” His hand fell. “Look. Rose. I’m sorry if I upset you…”

“It’s fine,” she said with a shake in her head and a wave of her hand. “I get it. I’m a friend of Jack’s, and being that he talks like that, you assumed you could do the same.”

“Doesn’t make it right,” he whispered.

“No,” she agreed. “It doesn’t.” 

Silence then fell upon them, neither knowing just where to go from here. She was about to excuse herself, but halted at a soft and rhythmic and heavy _pad pad pad_ sound from the other side of the cliff to the pool. Her back straightened and she moved past john to look over the ricks to the ground below. Illuminated only by the stars and moon above was a small mob of Kangaroos, bounding across the plain.

She ducked behind a rock, and gasped at the sight. “Wow.” She felt John crouch down beside her, and looked toward him with wonder. “Kangaroos,” she whispered excitedly. “Wild Kangaroos.”

His grin was as wide as hers. “That’s the red kangaroo,” he whispered against her shoulder. “The largest terrestrial mammal of Australia, and the largest Marsupial.” He swallowed before continuing, lending a slightly strangled tone to his voice. “They’re the biggest of the species, getting as tall as an average human female. Can be very aggressive if you get too close to them, particularly if one of the females is nursing a joey.” He threaded an arm over her shoulder and leaned into her, pointing toward a smaller grey animal with his other hand. He kept his voice low. “There’s a female there. Much smaller than the male. And look at her abdomen, see that bulge?”

“A baby,” Rose said with a small whimper of excitement.

“These guys are the reason we’re staying at the pool tonight,” he advised her. “They’re a menace on the roads, and no person with common-sense will drive after dusk on a Pilbara road – sealed or not.”

“My God,” she breathed out with reverence. “This is beautiful.”

He turned his head to look at her and was struck by the expression of awe on her face. The moon above cast a light blue glow onto her face in such a way that he could see the line of appreciative tears that filled to her lashes. “Yeah,” he croaked out. “Very beautiful.”

“I’ve missed this,” she whispered to herself.. “The travellin’ and the wonder of it all.”

“You enjoy travelling,” he remarked softly.

“Oj yes,” she said with a beaming smile, right now unable to take her eyes off the kangaroos grazing below them. “New ground beneath my feet, new sights, new sounds. I love it.”

“And your husband, does he also like to travel?”

She found herself laughing at the question. She turned her head to him, her eyes glistening in the moonlight. “He’s the one who got me hooked on it,” she answered with a smile. “I’d never left the estates till I met him.” She looked up into the sky. “But then one day, he took my hand…”

“Run,” he whispered inaudibly.

“… And he showed me the entire universe.” She blinked quickly. “Well, not the _universe_ , that would be crazy, but you know what I mean.” She sighed with longing as her eyes slowly shifted from the sky to the bushland below. “I wish he was here with me now to see this. He’d love it.”

“What’s his name?” John asked gently, unsure of why that was suddenly such an urgent question to be asked. “Your husband, I mean.”

A smile stretched across her face. He went by many names. Which one did she want to run with here?

“Thete,” she answered finally, lowering her head with a smile and tucking her hair behind her ear. “His name’s Thete, and he’s a doctor.” Her eyes flicked to him. “In case you were wondering.”

“Ahh,” he breathed out. “So. Your husband, Thete. He’s not here with you and your child. You keep referring to the name Doctor with obvious annoyance.” His lip twisted up into a smile. “Did the two of you have a spat, and so you left him?” His grin stretched. “And does he, perhaps, look a little bit like me?”

Rose’s face lengthened with surprise as to just how bloody accurate John’s assumption was. Of course there was no spat with the man who waited for her on Gallifrey. Quite the opposite, in fact. He wasn’t far off, however, on what had happened between her and the Doctor in Pinstripes.

When she didn’t immediately answer him, he put his hand on her arm. “It’s okay, you really don’t need to answer that.”

“I wasn’t plannin’ on it,” she admitted quietly. “But know this: I love my husband and my son more than I love anythin’ else in this entre universe. The are my sun and my moon…  
  


The words _why do they hurt_ flashed through his mind. With a pinch in his eyes, he ignored anything else she had to say to make a single remark: “I dream of you, you know.”

Her words caught and she flicked her head to him. “Excuse me?”

“I dream about you,” he repeated in a very matter-of-fact manner as though it wasn’t in any way an awkward thing to say to a woman. His face did crease. “Quite a lot, actually.”

Rose let out a long and frustrated humph. “Just stop,” she growled. “I’m not interested in being the latest in your long line of female _company_.” She used her fingers to make quotation marks in the air.

“You’re better as a companion,” he added instead, his voice curious. “Long term.”

“It’s called marriage,” she corrected with a huff. “As in dedicated and loyal.”

“In my dreams you’re like that,” he said with a shrug as his hands found their way into the pockets of his shorts. “Fiercely loyal and so very much loved…”

“Give it a rest, John,” she warned. “I’m tellin’ you right now, if you keep this up, I’ll let Jack tear you a new one.”

“Believe it or not, Rose, I’m actually not trying anything,” he said with a shrug as he walked to the boulder and leaned his rump up against it. He folded his arms across his chest and crossed his legs at the ankle. “I’m just telling you that you’ve been in my dreams, and I’m curious as to why that is.”

She lifted her eyes in a high roll of annoyance, and then strode forward to make her way toward the path back to the tent. “Go and have another beer,” she growled. “I don’t think the 12 you’ve already had was enough.” She looked him up and down with disdain as she passed by him. “Head on down to your pretty little bit of _company_ , John. She’s waiting for you and your gifted tongue to do things to her that she can brag about later.”

His hand snapped up to seize hold of her upper arm. “I’m in love with you,” he declared almost darkly.

“Oh don’t be stupid.”

“In my dreams,” he clarified, his voice still dark. “And for the record, I am just as able to nurse a beer for two hours as you are – don’t think I haven’t watched you do that all day. Just like you, I am in no way inebriated.”

She looked down to where his hand was holding tightly at her arm. “Let go of me,” she warned. “One call to Jack, or a howl to alert my Dahrama, and you’ll be wishing you were never born.” Her angry expression shifted to a deadly smirk as she stepped in a little closer to him. “And that’s after I’ve taken away your ability to procreate with a swift knee to your nads.”

“God you’re beautiful when you’re angry,” he mused affectionately. His grip on her arm loosened, but he didn’t release her. Instead he tugged her yet closer to him. His breath hitched when she stumbled up against his chest. “I need you to hear me out, Rose. Five minutes, that’s all, and then you can knee me in the balls, run and tell Horn that I’m an arsehole, and let him tear my face off.”

“I’d be more worried about your manhood than your face,” she warned him. The darkness had fled her voice, but it was by no means friendly nor teasing. “Jack plays dirty.”

“Don’t I know it,” he huffed with a smile. “But please. I need to make sense of this before it drives me mad.”

She stopped fighting against him and calmed herself. “Sense of what?”

“Why a woman I’ve never met before features so prominently in my dreams,” he answered. “And why my heart hurts so damn much when she keeps rejecting me.”

“Pride,” she ventured with a sigh. “Hard for a man who always wins the ladies to get rejected.”

He let out a laugh and finally let go of her arm. “My luck with the fairer sex, Rose Tyler, is not as good as you seem to think it is.” He shrugged. He then tugged at his ear. “Well, at least it never used to be.”

“Congratulations then,” she murmured. “I wish you all the luck in the world in not catching any form of STD as you finally find your opportunity to sow your wild oats.”

His voice fell to a whisper. “Rose, please.”

She was finally able to step back a much more respectful distance. With her arms across her chest, she nodded. “Okay. Go ahead.”

He inhaled a deep and shaking breath as he pulled his arms in tightly against his chest. His eyes drew skyward as he considered a starting point. When none that would make any real sense came to him, he lowered his head to look at the ground at their feet.

“I’m a traveller,” he began. “In my dreams.” He rubbed at the back of his neck and winced almost sheepishly. “An alien. With two hearts and a blue phone box as a ship.”

Rose blinked, trying desperately not to project any emotion that would suggest she knew what he was talking about. “I see,” she managed.

“And really,” he continued without acknowledging that she’d spoken. “Initially, I did laugh it off. Wild nonsensical imagery produced by an overactive mind.” He looked to her. “But then I dreamt of it again, and then again, until it became a story that spanned centuries – every single night.” He began to pace. “So many faces. Those that are supposed to be mine, those belonging to the companions that I travelled with.” He stopped pacing and looked to her with a curious stare. “In my dream, I’m called the Doctor.”

Her eyes flashed.

This, he caught. “Yes. Exactly,” he said with a snap of his fingers. “Which is why I find it very curious that you called me the one name from my dreams that stands out so vividly.” He paused to look at her with a curiously angled head. “Why did you call me that, Rose?”

“That’s what I call my husband,” she answered without a lie. “It’s habit for me to use it.”

“It would be,” he agreed. “If I was your husband.”

“Which you aren’t.”

He didn’t respond to that. He stared at her for a long moment in silence. A “tut tut tut” sound from the field below – the Kangaroos talking to each other – woke him from his stare. He shook his head and took his eyes from her. “Yes, well. Moving on.” He huffed and looked up into the sky. “This man, the Doctor, had a lot of companions walk in and out of his life. All of them special to him in one way or another, but none never special enough to have him … None that he loved so much that he would risk safety of the entire universe for her …” He swallowed thickly and raised his eyes to hers. “Until Rose.”

She blinked, turning away to hide a tear that dribbled from her lashes. John quickly turned her face back to his with a gentle touch of his fingers to her jaw. He wiped at her tear with to tip of his thumb. “God, he loved her.”

“Love fades,” she offered weakly. “A bit like dreams do.”

“No,” he breathed out with a shake in his head. “Not for him. Not even after an explosive regeneration did his love for her fade. It only strengthened what he felt.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” she whispered to herself.

He didn’t hear her as he growled excitedly and began to pace again. “Oh, and how much he loves her,” he continued. He turned to point at her. “And it is loves, please note, not loved. What he feels for her is so intense, so powerful, so all encompassing…” He dropped his hand and shrugged. His voice lost its excitement and shifted to defeat. “That he turned into a fool. He turned into an absolute fool. He took her love for granted, made assumptions, hurt her …. And then lost her.”

Her face tightened into a wince. She kept her voice level. “Sounds like a cheesy romance novel,” she managed. “Twilight sounds like a better love story…”

“What’s Twilight?” he asked curiously.

“Nothing worth reading,” she said with a shake in her head. She huffed out long. “Why are you tellin’ me all this, John?”

“Because for some reason, I think you need to hear it,” he replied softly.

She let out a laugh, forced though it was. “What, about your fanciful dreams of space travelling romance.” She shook her head. “You’re better off just writing a book – it’ll be a best seller for all those lonely women looking for an escape. Add some salacious erotic scenes, and they’ll make a movie out of it.”

His face hardened. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“What, that you’re having dreams?” She shrugged. “We all have them. Some are just more vivid an interesting than others.”

He stepped forward and touched his hands to her face, slowly shifting them to cup her jaw. He brought himself close to her. “In these dreams, Rose. I love you. I love you so much.”

“She’s not me,” she pleaded on a whisper. “She’s just a figment of your imagination.”

“Shea’s real,’ he corrected her. “She’s you.” He moved closer to her, his lips only millimetres from hers. “And I miss you so damn much that I can’t go on.”

“John,” she pleaded on a whisper. “Don’t do this.”

“Then stop me,” he challenged her as he finally closed the distance and captured her lips with his. Gentle, and with only a soft sliding touch of his fingertips to her jaw. It turned a little more intense when Rose’s unsureness didn’t’ allow her to immediately pull away from him. His head angled deep to one side, and his lips, closed at the initial contact, parted widely to attempt to claim her mouth in full. His arms then snapped tightly around her, knocking her half out of her stand and up against the rock beside them. Pain quickly flooded into Rose’s belly and a lightning crack of pain flashed through her head. She moaned as she pressed both hands into his chest and shoved herself from him with a hard push. 

“John,” she demanded hotly as she fought against his hold and was finally able to get freedom. She fell onto her backside against the rock and wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Doing what _he_ should have done,” he answered firmly, not making any move to wipe at his mouth like she had done hers. “The Doctor!”

Rose pressed her hand into a rock, trying hard to hold herself up against the continuing pain in her belly and incessant searing pain in her head. “That’s a Dream,” she growled as she pressed the butt of her hand to her head. “A faery tale. Not real.”

“It feels real to me,’ he argued. “So real.”

She crouched over the arm holding her belly and looked around the hand she had pressed into her brow. “Then you’re a fool. Because all that … that stuff you’re saying, is not real. It’s a fantasy.”

He noticed rose’s pain and discomfort and made his way over to her. He was hesitant to reach out and touch her, but wanted to offer his concern. “Rose? Are you okay?”

“No,” she moaned out. “God this hurts..”

He was about to ask her what was wrong, but was forced into silence at a long and threatening growl from the edge of the pathway. The growl turned to a threatening, thunderous roar for him to back off. He spun at the sound of Jack’s voice, and was stunned at the sheer fury he saw in his expression.

“What the hell did you do to her,” he demanded, rushing the stunned and shocked man and shoving him hard enough that he stumbled against a boulder.

He shook his head, his eyes wide and innocent. “I didn’t do anything,” he defended.

Rose whimpered and held out a hand to ask for him to stop. “Jack, don’t. He didn’t do anything, I’m just not feeling well.”

Jack rushed toward her, stopping in a crouch. He held her knee and looked up with concern. “Rosie, what’s wrong?”

“Pain in my stomach,” she answered him. She pointed to her head. “And up here.” She pressed the butt of her hand into her head. “Never felt pain like this before.”

His voice was full of concern. “Do I need to take you back to town?”

She smiled and shook her head. “You’ve been drinking, so no.” She panted out a couple of times. “An’ it’s okay, it’s starting to ease off now.”

He lifted his hand to cup her face underneath the curtain of hair that had fallen forward. He lifted her face and took a deep look at her sunken eyes in the moonlight. He knew what the discolouration of her cheeks and the deep set of her eyes meant. He let out a breath. “He kissed you, didn’t he?” He didn’t wait for her to answer before he levered himself up to his full height and spun to glare the other man down. “You kissed her, didn’t you?”

John held up his hands. “It was just a kiss, that’s all,” he defended. “Nothing more than that.”

“Oh,” he huffed out as a laugh. “That wasn’t _just a kiss_ at all, John.” He pointed back at her. “That doesn’t happen with _just a kiss_.”

His eyes pinched. “I’m sorry, _what_?” He looked to Rose, who was watching the both of them with very wide and panicked eyes. “You’re blaming _that_ on _me_?”

“She’s soul-bonded, you idiot!” he snarled. “To a man you _really_ don’t want to start fucking with.”

Rose gasped. “Jack?”

He turned quickly and moved to her. Cupping her face tenderly, he leaned back in his shoulders to look not her face. “Breathe through it, Rose. Breathe through it and hope to whatever deity you pray to that the old man isn’t feeling that back on Gallifrey.” He switched his focus between her eyes, left and then right, and then left again. “Because we’d be looking at a Cat-10 storm if he did. Nothing in the universe will stop him.”

“I don’t understand, Jack,” she said to him. “All he did was kiss me, like he said. Nothing more than that.” She finally straightened up, the pain ebbing off only to the humming discomfort she’d felt since leaving Gallifrey. “When you kissed me, it hurt, but wasn’t this bad.”

“When I kissed you,” he countered. “I didn’t try to completely swallow you whole like this idiot did.” He moved closer to her. “And I also feel a much different and more pure love for you than he thinks he does.” He pulled her in against his chest. “That makes a big difference.”

John was affronted by that admittance. “Are you telling me that you were _watching_ us?”

“And _that’s_ the part he choses to make note of,” He said with a moan. He then nodded with a shrug in his shoulders. “Of course I was. Do you honestly think that’d I’d let you stalk up here and be alone with her? I saw how fast you shot up to go after her when she walked up here…”

John’s face darkened to a petulant snarl. “I needed to talk to her,” he ground out. “Alone.”

“And I need to protect her,” he defended.

“That _her_ you’re both referring to is right here,” Rose interrupted. “So how about you both _talk_ to _me_ instead of _around_ me, yeah?”  


John spoke, while Jack simply adopted a guilty expression. “Rose. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you – although I still don’t understand just how I did that.” He looked confused but seemed to shake it off. “It’s just I was so sure, you know. And you’re there,” he pointed to her. “And in here.” He tapped at his temple. “I was overcome, that’s all. You’re probably right, I’ve had too much to drink. It was a hot day…” He sighed and his voice fell to a whisper. “So damn real.”

Rose moved off the boulder and walked toward him. She took his hands in hers and gave them a squeeze. “It’s okay, John. Just…” She exhaled. “They’re just dreams, nothing more than that. You’re not a TARDIS travelling Time Lord flitting about all time and space, picking up stray human companions and falling in love. There’s no such thing.”

He looked at her without expression. Three words he never mentioned to her were: Tardis, Time, and Lord.

Yeah,” he drawled finally. “You’re right. Of course.” The thumbed back toward the camp. “I guess we should get back down there,” he suggested. 

Jack’s focus was still on Rose. He didn’t look back at John. “You head off. We’ll meet you there.”

“Right.” He thrust his hands into his pockets and kicked at the ground before he finally started a slow walk back down the path.

Jack waited until he was out of earshot and took a seat on the boulder beside Rose. “He’s remembering,” he made out worriedly.

Rose nodded. “Is that supposed to happen, with him changing himself like he did?”

He shrugged. “I really don’t know, Rosie. I’ll have to check with Martha, and maybe see what I can find in the TARDIS, but I’m figuring he used a Chameleon Arch.” He blew out a breath. She didn’t have to ask the question in order to answer it – he already knew what she’d ask. “It’s Time Lord technology. Crude torture device, if what the rumours say are right. Can change him into any species he wants to become.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Far as I know, though, his actual memories of being a Time Lord should be locked away in whatever bio-module the TARDIS had on board. He shouldn’t have leakage like this.”

She made a sound of understanding despite not understanding him at all.

He petted her knee. “Maybe having you here has triggered something?”

She shook her head. “No. He said he’s been having these dreams for a long time – way before I came along.”

“But he was able to put it together after seeing you.”

She winced at that. “Could it be dangerous,” she asked. “I mean to him?”

His voice was a whisper of worry. “I really don’t know.” He put an arm across her shoulder and pulled her toward him. He pressed a kiss to her head and held his lips there as he thought about it. “I need to find your Doctor,” he said finally. “Only he can answer that question.”

“But you’ve already tried,” she whimpered pitifully. “And you weren’t able to get the TARDIS working.”

“Then I’ll just have to try harder,” he said with a shrug. “Quite likely, your Doctor is pinging the shit out of her trying to find you. At some point that’s going to irritate her so much that she’ll want to send back a ping telling him to sod off and leave her alone.”

That made her laugh. 

“Come on, my precious girl,” he cooed with a squeeze of her shoulder to coax her up to a stand. “Let’s get some shut-eye. We’ll pack it up early tomorrow and take off ahead of the group. The earlier we get back to the old girl, the faster I can try and track down your Doctor for you.”

She nodded as she stood up and stretched her arm across his back. She laid her head on his shoulder. “Thanks, Jack.”

Behind them, and out of sight to them both, a green vein of light streaked across the sky. It swerved to one side, and then to the other, and with a poof it landed only a handful of miles away from where the party were camped.

~~oooOOOooo~~

Steve and Mary ran hand in hand over the cliff face and into the desert field of Spinifex bushes and ghost gum trees. Behind them the fire that lit the campsite was shielded by the large rocks, boulders and the gorge behind them, offering them the perfect amount of privacy.

Steve released her hand to undo the button and fly of his shorts as they ran, eager to partake in the promise of a hard one up against a tree. “I think we’re far enough away, Mar,” he panted. “Come on, stop. Let’s get to it.”

She giggled as she slowed to a jog, and then a walk. She touched coyly at her shirt collar as she turned and walked backward toward one of the smooth-trunked trees. “I’m a bit of a screamer, Steve. They might hear…”

He pushed his shorts and underpants down to his knees and gave her a grin. “Who cares if they do, maybe it’ll spur Smith into action with Joanie. Fuck that girl’s got it for him. Must be the accent.”

She gasped as her back hit up roughly against the tree. She snarled as he pressed himself against her, tugging at her skirt to get to her panties. “Jesus, Steve. Don’t talk about another chick right now.” She groaned at his fumbling of her panties. “Just pull ‘em to one side, Steve. Don't take 'em off. I don’t want ‘em thrown into a Spinifex bush.”

He snarled against her throat, doing precisely as she asked. He rutted against her a few times. “Feels a bit like a screamer movie right now,” he said with a laugh. “Two campers getting’ drunk, heading into the bush for a quick fuck…”

“Oh shut up and do it, Steve, Jesus. Don’t need commentary,” she growled impatiently. 

“It might be best you listened to him,” a snarled, aged, and dangerous voice cautioned her. “There are so many dangerous things out here.”

Mary’s eyes opened wide and she let out a scream.


	43. Translation Matrix Online

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack tries to fix a TARDIS....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not quite sure how I feel about this chapter. I certainly didn't intend for it to go on for so long, but I think I needed to solve a few issues that were beginning to piss me off ... so this came about.
> 
> That said: Eight now knows where they are, and he's on his way...
> 
> Things are about to turn quite dark over the next couple of chapters. And by that I don't mean angst, I mean Stephen King kind've darkness. So that said, I hope you like this calm before the storm
> 
> Oh, and BTW ... Chicken Treat was literally the only fast food place in town back in the day... and it was very yummy. Soggy chips buried under a piece of BBQ Chicken loaded with Chicken Salt is the greatest thing in the world!! I miss chicken salt....

~~oooOOOooo~~

The differences between the TARDIS he was used to travelling in and the TARDIS he was currently trying to wake up were two very different machines.

The deathly darkness of the older machine – the one he was in with Rose and the leather-wearing Doctor – was very cave-like. All metal grilled flooring that tinked with each footstep and towering arms of orange coral lended a very rustic, but not incredibly terrifying atmosphere. He could set up camp in here and maybe only have to worry about the arrival of a bear or some other large nasty animal… Both of which could be dispatched quite easily with a shot of his firearm.

This TARDIS? Well. With it’s walls of book cases, tall unlit candelabras spread throughout, and a grand staircase underneath a monstrous Prydonian seal, it looked and felt more like an abandoned haunted house. It was eerie, and very spooky, and more than once he shuddered and looked over his shoulder to make sure there were no spirits watching him.

He didn’t like ghosts. Nope. Not at all. Not in the slightest. Spirits and spectres were not so easily defeated. He couldn’t use a firearm to kill them … they were already dead.

And of course it didn’t help his heart any when an excitable little boy with floppy hair, sunken green eyes, and a playful attitude kept popping up with a loud “Boo!” to scare the life right out of him. The only reason he hadn’t died of a heart attack to this point was because he was immortal and couldn’t die – although he half expected that young Mark was trying to see just _how_ immortal he really was.

He couldn’t get mad at the kid. Adorable lad that he was. The thrill and laughter that the youngster pealed out each time made him grin and laugh himself. It took his attention off the fact that this dead machine lit only by a handful of strategically placed dull 1990’s Everready flashlights actually scared the bejeezus out of him.

Several moments ago, Jack had sent Rose and Marth off on a food run with the promise to take care of the little scamp and not let him get into any mischief. They were headed to Chicken Treat, the only real fast food store in town, for a few barbeque chicken and chips boxes. Greasy food, really, but tasty. He quite liked the fried pineapple slice from the Hawaiian pack.

He was on his back underneath the console of the ship, his arms held up to tinker with the wires overhead, when a small white face moved in over his. He felt the fall of his light little body across his chest and shifted to give the kid room. He couldn’t help but smile at the curious little gaze that looked at him, and then lifted to look up. Mark asked him a question in Gallifreyan, and while Jack couldn’t understand a word the lad spoke, he took a guess that he was probably asking what he was doing, and so he responded in kind.

“Trying to see if I can force a reboot,” he muttered with a wince as he wrapped the uninsulated ends of a pair of wires together. “Trying to give the old girl a kick start. Hot wiring it if you will.”

Mark’s eyes were wide and his lips pursed out curiously as he looked into Jack’s face and then up to the wiring. He pointed at something as started to speak.

Jack pointed up. “You want me to do something with that?”

Mark purred a trilling sound in his throat and sat up. He started to speak rapidly and gesture with theatrical movements of his hands and arms. He then clapped his hands together and made a sound as he swept his arms up an around him, standing up and rounding his arms again in dramatic fashion as he skipped around in a twirl. He pointed to each one of the candelabras with a shooting motion, like a cowboy shooting off the hip. He then stopped, blew at his fingertips, and looked at Jack with wide, wide, eyes that begged him to have understood. He even nodded in that way that asked: “Did you get that?”

Jack could only lever one brow down over his eye and shake his head. “I’m sorry, kid. I wish I knew what you were saying. No doubt you’ve spent some time down here with your dad.”

“Papa,” Mark said with a grin and a nod, excited to think that Jack had understood him completely. He then ducked underneath the console again with Jack. He pointed up to the wires again, looked back down and gave the former Time Agent a wide toothy grin.

“Okay, kid,’ Jack breathed out with a shrug in his shoulder and a tip in his head. “I’ll play along with you.” He took two wires in his fingers and held them close, but not touching, as he looked to Mark with question. “Are you sure?”

Mark’s beaming grin and the eager nod of his head told Jack that he was fine to proceed. “Okay, if you’re sure,” he murmured with worry. “You might want to move back a bit, though, if you’ve got this wrong and this things goes boom, then..”

Mark huffed with impatience and lifted up onto his knees. He grabbed Jack’s hands and forced the two wires to touch. His head lifted with a smile as the TARDIS began to hum, and all of the candelabras in the room flared to life. “Tada!” he called out triumphantly.

Jack smiled broadly and fastened the wires to hold the connection. He then jumped to a stand, reached down to pick up the child, and spun the two of them around in a twirl of victory.

“You. Are. Brilliant!” he cheered, grinning at the peal of laughter that squealed throughout the room. He stopped them spinning and looked into the child’s face. “Just like your dad. Brilliant!” He set his little feet back onto the floor and quickly jogged over to the communications bench. He pulled down a monitor with both hands and actually took a moment to make sure it was at a position to capture his best look before he dropped his focus to let his fingers fly across the keyboard. “Okay baby, let’s reach out to Gallifrey.” He looked at Mark with a coy smirk. “And that gorgeous Time Lord father of yours. Tell me what I’m going to do with two of them down here.”

Mark looked at him with confusion and non-understanding in his expression.

“Yeah,” Jack muttered as he looked to the monitor as static snow showed on-screen. “Good thing you can’t understand a word I’m saying, kid … and that you can’t read minds.” He shot him a smile. “You really don’t want to know what goes on in there.”

The pretty face of a young Asian woman appeared on screen. Disinterested in looking into the camera in favour of looking down at her keyboard, she spoke in emotionless and purposeful Gallireyan. Jack waited until she paused.

“This is Captain Jack Harkness. I’m looking for the Doctor.” He grinned when she lifted her head to look at both the camera and her monitor feed. “Yes, that’s right. Look up here.”

She spoke again, still in an untranslated language. Her face was emotionless and possibly tired. No doubt nearing the end of her shift.

“Yeah,” he drawled with a scratch at the back of his head. “This isn’t going to work, now, is it?” He looked down to Mark as the woman kept talking. “Got any ideas?”

Mark held up his arms with a flicker of his fingers in a request to be lifted up. Jack answered the request, stopped, lifted, and then sat his little butt on the console. Immediately the child began speaking to woman on the other end. 

Initially, there was a shift in the emotionless façade. A short moment of _aww_. But then business returned, and she spoke what appeared to be instructions to the youngster. Mark listened intently, his eyes wide and his jaw open. He then nodded and looked down at the console. He pressed his fingertip to his lip as he scanned the array of lights and switches, and then dropped his hand to activate a switch.

“Was that the one?” he asked curiously with a look toward Jack. “Can you understand me now?”

A wide grin spread like rapid fire across his cheeks. “You bet I can!” he cheered. He cupped the boy’s head and kissed him with a big “mwah” in the hair. He bent at the knees to look into his face. “Never before have I though English to be a beautiful language, kid. But from you, it’s heaven!”

“Translation matrix online,” the woman on the other end droned almost robotically. “Language: Mutter’s Spiral, Sol 3 English.” Her eyes were now downcast. “You’ve reached Gallifrey Transduction Traffic control. Your transponder is squawking an older traffic code. Please hold in pattern until I’ve identified your flight capsule and can grant you materialisation privilege.”

“Yeah, well…”

She lifted her eyes. “You’re communicating from an unregistered T-40 capsule.” Her head shook. “You are not allowed access to Gallifrey flight space without permission from our Lady President. Do you have the necessary permits?”

“Oh honey,” he purred. “We’re not looking for flight clearance.”

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Then please state your reasons for contact.”

He grinned his most disarming smile and leaned an elbow down on the console in a coy and suggestive manner. “My primary motive is to reach out to someone specific. But if you’re available later, perhaps we can arrange…”

“We’re looking for my papa” Mark chipped in, effectively railroading Jack’s efforts to shine on this pretty woman.

She looked to the youngster with a soft expression. “And who’s your papa?”

“That would be the Doctor,” Jack cut in. “If you would be a darling, can you please patch me through to the old man?”

Her eyes flicked to Jack. Her voice became guarded. “The Lord Doctor is unavailable,” she bit out. “If you can explain the nature of your contact, then I can transfer your communication to the Cardinal’s office, where you can attempt negotiations.”

Jack’s face tightened with incredulous confusion. “Negotiations for what?”

“For the release of the child,” she answered flatly. 

“Release of the…?” realisation dawned, and he held up his hands and shook his head. “Oh. No. God, no. You think I’ve kidnapped the lad?” He stepped back from the monitor as though stepping back from a police officer. “Not a chance in that. Do you have any idea _who_ the Doctor is?”

“I am aware of his reputation,” she answered with a smirk.

“Yeah, then you’d know that the only man fool enough to go after his family would be…” He scratched at his head. “Well. No one. No one’s _that_ mad. Except maybe him, and even then I think he’d have a second and third thought about that.” His eyes widened and he blew out his breath to calm his mind. 

“Transferring you to the Cardinal,” the woman said finally. “Hold for connection.”

The screen went momentarily blank and Jack looked to Mark. “Is it just me, or did she not like me very much?”

Mark shrugged, but didn’t say anything.

The darkened monitor blinked and blipped. A small ray of light, a laser beam, shot out of a small pencil-tipped hole underneath the monitor. Jack rounded to follow the light as it quickly built a 3-D image of a man, from feet to head. Jack’s brows were high as it crafted a pair of tan-coloured wing-tipped shoes, a pair of grey pinstriped trousers, a matching blazer and waistcoat, and then the angled, moustached face of a proud – but very impatient and irritated looking fellow.

“Be quick,” Braxiatel demanded. “I’m very busy.”

Jack’s eyes widened. Well this was a much more proper and well put together man than he was used to seeing as the Doctor. He walked around the image and then brought himself to face him. “Doctor? Is that _really_ you?”

Braxiatel looked absolutely horrified by that suggestion. “I most certainly am not, and I will thank you never to make any such comparisons to that man ever again.”

Mark squealed with glee and leapt off the console. “Uncle Brax!” he cried out excitedly. He skidded to a halt in front of the holographic image and skipped form foot to foot. “Me and mama went on an adventure!”

Braxiatel dropped into a crouch, his eyes wide with relief. “Marktrukketatoctra,” he rushed out worriedly. “Are you alight? Your mother?”

Jack stepped forward and put his hand on Mark’s shoulder. The youngster smiled and leaned against his leg, his head against Jack’s hip. “They’re both fine,” he assured firmly. “Both Mark and Rose are with me. I’m Jack, by the way. Captain Jack Harkness.”

Darkness crossed Braxiatel’s face as he drew himself up to a stand. “Well then Captain Harkness, I will warn you,” he growled. “That to bring harm to either of them will result in punishment and penalties that will make you wish you were never born.” His eyes narrowed. “In fact, I am quite capable in making sure you were never conceived om the first place.”

Jack’s brows creased with indignant confusion yet again. “Why would you need to make a threat like that?” He then slumped and let out a moan. “My God, you’re all a suspicious bunch, aren’t you? I didn’t kidnap them. Rose is a very good friend of mine, as is the Doctor. Well. A future version of him at any rate.”

“Why are they with you?” he asked. “And why has it taken so long for you to contact us?”

“How about you find the Doctor for me, and I’ll make explanations then,” he snipped in reply, beginning to tire of the suspicion and accusations coming out of Gallifrey right now. But, gee, if they weren’t all able to sound scary as hell when pissed off. He let out a sigh. “I mean no harm to either of them, I just want to help them come home.”

There was a nod in his head, his aggression fleeing as he finally noticed the way his nephew leaned against Jack’s leg in the comfortable way he was “I’ve sent notice for him,” Braxiatel stated. “But I warn you. Thete’s been, shall I say, a little more out of his mind and out of control than is usual for him these past couple of days.” His eyes lifted to look at something over Jack’s shoulder. “The TARDIS isn’t operating at full power, is she?”

He shook his head. “Unfortunately no, which is why I can’t pilot her back to Gallifrey.”

His eyes flicked back to him. “You know how to pilot a Capsule?”

“Taught by the best,” Jack answered with a smile. “Like I said I’m a good friend of his.”

Braxiatel had to laugh at that. “Then you weren’t taught to pilot that craft by my brother,” he quipped. “Never was there a worse navigator.” His jaw opened and he flicked his hand. “And speak of the Devil. Hello Thete.”

The Doctor’s image walked across the console room floor with a rigid gait. His shoulders her hunched and his fists clenched. He strode until he was nose to nose with his brother and snarled his greeting. “What is so important that you had to take me from my search,” he seethed. He held his finger and thumb close together. “I’m close. So damn close to finding them, Brax. IF you and Romana would just leave me alone for a minute to get it done, but no.”

Braxiatel lifted his eyes and let out a long suffering sigh. The Doctor lifted up his head and onto his toes in an attempt to maintain eye contact with his brother.

“But no,” he continued. “It’s all: You have to sleep, Thete, and eat, and stay away from the capsule cradles, you can’t take a new TARDIS, and no, pissing into bottles is not an acceptable way to relieve yourself when you don’t have time to walk a mile to the toilet.”

“Well it’s really not,’ Braxiatel said quietly with a sigh and a shake in his head.

“I’m looking for my mate and my child. My _family_ , Brax,” he advised him with a rise of his finger into his chest. “I think I can be afforded some considerations, don’t you?” He slumped and spun in place as he let out the words “but no” in a long moan than ended when the obviously exhausted Time Lord ended his spin with a stumble. “Why would you give me that, Brax? Huh? Why?”

Braxiatel’s expression remained neutral as he pointed to behind the Doctor toward a youngster that was giggling into his hands. “There are times, Thete, that you really do have a maturity level lower than your own youngster.” He looked to the child. “Marktrukketatoctra, stop laughing at your father.”

The Doctor’s eye pinched just slightly in question. His body stilled, too scared to hope. “Mark?” he breathed out finally. “You found them?”

“More like they found you,” Braxiatel practically announced as he walked around his brother and toward the hologram of the child. He looked down at Mark with a wink, and then up at Jack with a stare of warning. He was aware that his brother’s eyes were on him and spun around to speak before he could. “This fellow claims to be a friend of yours and of Rose. From your future if I’m not mistaken.” He looked at Jack. “I’m not mistaken am I?”

The Doctor finally broke position to rush toward his son. The name of his beloved boy burst through his lips as he stooped to pick his child up. He was stopped short by Braxiatel holding a hand against his chest. “He’s just an image, Thete. No touch.”

The Doctor lifted his head as he stumbled backward. Any hope and relief he had in his eyes faltered almost immediately. “Holographic communication? But from where?”

“Earth,” Jack offered. “Pilbara region of Australia, the Western part, specifically. 1992 AD.”

“Nineteen-nineties Australia doesn’t have the technological capabilities to engage a holographic telecommunication.” He huffed in reply as he walked toward Jack. The Doctor’s eyes were slightly hostile to look toward him, but they softened when he crouched down in front of his child. “Are you okay?”

Mark grinned widely, and a fast bob of his head was his frantic nod. “Oh yes! This place is amazing!” He started to bound around like a Kangaroo. “We saw these funny animals that jump like this.” He stopped. “Oh, and we went to a pool, and stayed in a tent!” 

“Sounds like quite the adventure,” he said softly, almost sadly. “Where’s your mother, and why isn’t she with you?”

“Rose is fine,” Jack assured him. “She and Martha just stepped out to get something for us all to eat.” He yawned without covering his mouth. “We’ve been in the TARDIS trying to get her operational since we got back to town a few hours ago. Mark was hungry, I was hungry, Martha was hungry...”

“Martha?” the Doctor remarked with a lift of his eyes to Jack. “As in the companion to my elder self?”

Jack nodded and one side of his mouth lifted into a smile. “Gorgeous medical student? Yep, that would be her.”

He slowly rose to a stand and incredible sadness crossed his face. “So does that mean I am there with you as well?” 

Jack winced and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Well that’s a tough one to answer and it does come in two parts.”

Braxiatel gruffed. “ Oh don’t tell me there’s two of him in your timeline right now” He looked to his brother. “I swear by our Father’s grave you are impossible, Thete.”

The Doctor held up his hands in innocence. “I’m not part of this.”

‘Not yet, anyway,” he snarled. He looked back to Jack. “You have multiple incarnations of this fool with you right now?” He looked to his brother. “Well, that would explain the difficulty we’re having in accessing their location and being able to fix any navigational protocols to it.”

Jack levered up a brow and shook his head. “If there was more than one here, do you think I’d be having to fix a TARDIS by myself?” He didn’t give either of them a moment to continue before he held up his hands to ask for silence to continue. “The Doctor..” He looked to him. “Your future self, that is. Well, he’s here. Sort of.”

The Doctor folded his arms across his chest. “I’m listening.”

Jack huffed. “He’s here, but.” He frowned. “But he’s turned himself into a Human.”

“I’m sorry?” the Doctor gaped in disbelief. “He’s done what?”

“He used what I believe might be the Chameleon Arch and turned himself into a Human.”

“Why would that damn fool do something so incredibly stupid like that?”

Braxietel rubbed at his brows and let out a moan. “I want to remark on how very amusing it is that your incredulity to something such as this is lends to you suggesting that you’ve never done anything foolish before in any of your lives, Thete. I’d even like to say I’m surprised by it, myself. But for the love of Rassilon, Omega, and the Other, Brother…” He raked his hand down his face to loosely cover his mouth. “I’m going to hope here that this change was done because of a catastrophic emergency, and not just because he woke up one morning and had some form of existential crisis…” He looked to the Doctor. “Rassilon, Thete.”

“The family of Blood,” Jack cut in before Braxiatel could continue. “And if you’d let me finish.” He paused a second and looked between them both. “The Family of Blood, he called them…”

“We’re familiar with the species,” the Doctor offered. He then waved to him. “Do continue.”

“They caught scent of him after an adventure. According to Martha, the Doctor decided – rather than dealing with them head on and risking them escaping to find new hosts – that he would turn himself into a Human and let them die off as they searched for him.” He frowned. “And it really isn’t as halfway foolish in my head as it is when I said it.”

Braxiatel lifted a brow. “Are you quite sure about that?”

Jack held up his hand. “Anyway. So The Doctor – now John Smith – and Martha are here in the Australian Pilbara hiding out until the family die off, and the Doctor can return to his regular foxy Time Lord self.” He blew out a breath. “So while he is, indeed, here. He’s actually not.”

The Doctor seemed to take it all in. He considered it a moment with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. “I think I’m caught up,” he drawled out. “However, I can’t quite see how Rose and Mark factor into the equation.” 

“An accident,” was all Jack would say as he looked down to Mark, who shuffled his feet guiltily on the floor. “Just an accident.”

The Doctor looked down to his child and his face contorted into regret. “I left it unlocked, didn’t I, the TARDIS?”

“How it happened is irrelevant,” Jack reminded him. “What is important is that your wife and child are in danger here. With the Doctor being Human, and the Family caught onto the scent of Time Lord, that puts Mark in danger.”

The Doctor shook his head. “Not necessarily. Mark’s not a Time Lord. He’s had little to no exposure to the Time Vortex nor time travel at all. Rose, on the other hand. She carries me inside her, a Time Lord soul connected with her Human one.” He blew out a worried breath. “She’s as much Time Lord as I am.” He lifted his eyes and winced to correct that. “Except for the lack of regenerations, of course. But aside from that, she’s me as much as I’m her.”

“And that puts her in extreme danger,” Jack warned. “Worse is that she believes that _you_ are in danger.”

“As a Human, I wouldn’t be.”

“Tell her that.” He took a step closer to the hologram of the Time Lord. “I need you to talk to me and tell me everything I need to know about the Chameleon Arch. Why he’s having memory seepage…”

“Memory seepage,” Braxiatel asked curiously. “His consciousness should be in a Bio-Data module provided by his capsule. There shouldn’t be anything left in his mind to remember anything beyond the story that the TARDIS created for him.”

“It’s been known to happen,” the Doctor offered glumly. “If the transfer wasn’t fully completed before he detached from the Arch.” He looked to his Brother. “The strongest emotions and memories are the last to be removed.” He looked to Jack. “What is he remembering, specifically?”

“Rose,” he answered simply. “The love he has for her. Your marriage.”

The Doctor winced. “Yes, I would imagine they’d be difficult for the TARDIS to remove in its entirety. They are memories that no man would ever want to part with.” He looked at his brother. “I could lose it all, Brax. The whole existence of me, who I was, who I am, and who I could ever be … but the one thing I could never lose is her.” He looked to Mark. “Or him.’

“Can it break him,” Jack asked. “I mean, if everything comes back to him?”

Braxiatel sighed hard. “If he regains his full Time Lord awareness in a Human brain?” He nodded. “He’ll burn. Completely. A human mind can’t handle it.” He looked to his brother. “If the one he loves is put in danger and threatened, Thete. If he sees his mate in peril, the Time Lord _will_ emerge.”

“And my future will burn.”

Jack swallowed. “For now he thinks it’s all dreams and fantasy. But the more he sees her, Doctor, the more he remembers. He’s so sure right now that he’s in love with her. It won’t take much more for him to remember it all.”

Braxietal spun to look at his brother. “I’ll apply for clearance for you to travel to Sol 3. Take Captain Tomiwtraximery with you.” He narrowed his eyes at his brother. “And don’t argue with me. You can’t fly two capsules at once, so you’ll need another Time Lord with you.”

“The _Cerulean_ ,” he groused. “Anyone but him. He has a thing for Martha, and I’m not putting that brilliant woman back in his peripheral.” He wriggled his fingers in his brother’s face. “So he can try to imprint on the poor girl again. All touch and imprint that lot, not good for much else.”

“You shouldn’t be there long enough for him to get close to her,’ Braxiatel ordered. “Fly in, collect your family, and dematerialise out of there. Head back home, and for Rassilon’s sake lock up the damn TARDIS.”

There was a squeak as the doors opened, and then a shrill squeak of shock. The two solid-body presences, and the tow holograms looked with shock to the doorway, where Martha and Rose stood frozen. Both of them carried plastic bags with food boxes in them.

“Doctor?” Rose ventured wit hope. “Is that you?”

His face lit up at the sight of her. “My Hearts.”

Rose dropped the bags in her hand and launched into a run at him. “You’re here,” she called out as her arms opened wide to run into a bone-crushing hug. 

His eyes flashed open wide, and his hologram took a step backward. “Rose. No. Wait!”

Too late. Rose wasn’t listening. All she knew was that the man she loved was near, here, and she had to get to him as quickly as possible. She leapt at the last second, hoping to swing and hook her legs around him as they engulfed each other. There was no mass, however, to stop her run, and as she leapt to him, she flew through his hologram completely. She yelped as she landed, stumbling into her knees, her shoulder, and then to her back.

“What the Hell?” She looked up at him. “What happened.”

There was a smile on his face, one that he was trying desperately to hide. Pride in her excitement for him, and just the amusement of it made suppressing it entirely impossible. “My” he sang as he crouched down beside her. “Graceful, aren’t we?”

Behind him Braxiatel spit in laughter, joined by Jack, who bellowed out his amusement. Mark looked between the two of them and, seeing them both laughing, felt that he had to do the same.

Rose didn’t get up off the floor, although she did lean around the Doctor’s image to glare at them. “I hate you all,” she growled.

The Doctor tried to reach out to her but winced on realizing he wasn’t actually able to touch her. “Are you okay?”

“Embarrassed more’n anything,” she admitted. She looked up at him with confusion and lifted a hand to touch at his projection. “Why are you a ghost?”

“I’m still on Gallifrey,” he said softly. “Worried. Desperate. Trying to find my way to you.”

“Have you found us now?” she asked him as she lay back onto her elbows and looked up at him crouched so close to him. “Are you coming?”

His projection moved over her, his hands pressed down into the floor, one either side of her breasts. His face lowered to hers, and although they couldn’t physically touch, he shifted his lips to hers. “I’m on my way.”


	44. Mechanic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a mechanic isn't all it's cracked up to be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It would seem that in every season there needs to be an episode that is fairly Doctor free. Not quite sure just why that is, but some of the best -- and the worst - episodes have had very little of our Time Lord actually in it...
> 
> Just which end of the spectrum this fic fits remains to be seen, but we are at a chapter that has an absence of our Time Lord or any of his amazing companions.
> 
> So just a heads up as you head into this one - don't expect any Doctor/Rose/Jack/Martha.
> 
> Also remember: This is 1992. Things were different back then. People thought differently, and people were allowed to do stuff and not be finger waggled at by others. This is also a chapter written form the POV of a mine mechanic ... so it gets a little gruff and, err, oh I dunno ... It's different from everything leading to this point.
> 
> That said .. I really hope you can enjoy this one.... I really do. Yesterday's chappie didn't seem to go down to well, so I hope this one is better...

~~oooOOOooo~~

Bob Johnson wiped the back of a greasy hand over his sweated brow as he worked underneath a giant 3-storey 321 tonne Cat 793F Haulpak truck. Tonight he was annoyed. No. Not annoyed. He was downright fucking pissed off. This was a brand new truck, only a week so far at the Mine. A week old! He shouldn’t be nosing about underneath the damn thing replacing hoses and repairing damage. 

He tossed a wrench onto a warped and stainless metal tray atop a rusted-looking tool cabinet and walked out from underneath the machine, satisfied that the bulk of the damage had been repaired, but pissed off that he’d have to wait on parts to get the rest of it complete. He didn’t bother wiping his hands on a rag or shop towel as he trudged toward a water cooler in the corner of the shop. Bloody thing had seen better days, it was filthy except for the new tank that had been put on yesterday. Years of grease grime on dirty thumbs had left its mark on the tap lever, which was now a dark grey rather than white. But none of the blokes seemed to mind all that much. The sheila’s did though, and none of them dared take a cup of water from it. Nah, they’d bring I their own thermoses of cold water instead and then delicately wipe their hands on towels, and scrub their hands and nails with pumice soap like a damn surgeon before touching their own stuff.

He didn’t mind at all. It wasn’t like he inhaled and ate grease on a daily basis at work anyway. Unless he fingered a line of Vaseline on his lip like a bloody great dam against sweat, it was an inevitability. He could think of better uses for Vaseline…

He leaned a forearm across the top of the watercooler as he grabbed a shoddy looking pearl luster iridescent orange coffee mug circa somewhere 1960. Older than the mine, but in much better condition thanks to the cleaning crew, bless them for cleaning up the shit his team left behind after shift. 

Sweat dripped off the tip of his nose as he hooked his fingers into the handle of the mug and used his thumb to depress the lever for water. His arm felt the glub of the air bubble the sprung up after a half-pour and he held the lever for only a second longer before flicking it up and lifting the mug to his lips for a long draw of water. He half winced at how warm the water was. The motor for the fridge unit had blown about two months ago and hadn’t yet been repaired. Of course, any member of his team could probably do it, _and_ probably make a better motor capable of surviving this damn incessant heat for longer than a month so they’d have cold water to drink. None of them were allowed to, though. Bloody sparkies would lose their shit if they did, call a strike while they were at it as well. 

Not that any of those little princesses would actually fix the damn thing themselves. Nah, they’d just put a call into the local Retravision store and ask them to send out someone.

He took off his hard-hat and wiped his brow with the back of his hand as walked back toward the large Cat 793 that he’d just been working on.

Fuck it was hot. 

Didn’t matter that the air conditioners were running fill-tilt, and it was nearing midnight, it was still bloody hot. He lifted his eyes to the thermometer that gave the outside temperature and winced. Forty Three degrees. Bloody Hell.

No wonder the air-conditioner wasn’t working right to cool the place down. Damn shop was nothing more than a massive tin shed oven full of other metal shit that absorbed heat like a damn magnet. Hard for a small air-con unit to wage battle against the blazing sun overhead. Nature versus machine? Nature will kick its arse without even thinking about it.

He pulled at the collar of his navy blue pair of coveralls and sniffed with annoyance. He approached the massive wheel of the Cat and used both hands on the rim to haul himself up in the well for a sit down and smoke break. Even though the truck had been out in the mine for a week, rolling through rusted red dust, pyritic shale, and iron ore, it was still cleaner in the wheel well than in any of the filthy seats in the shop.

He pulled a worn pack of Winfield Gold cigarettes from his chest pocket and dug for his lighter in the pocket at his hip. He barely glanced around as he tapped a single white and brown stick from the pack and popped it in between his lips. One eye closed and the other squinted as he cupped his hand around the cigarette and lit it with a single flick of the lighter and deep draw. He blew what he’d drawn in up into the air as he tucked both lighter and cigarette packet into his chest pocket.

Fuck he hated Summer up here. He hated forty-eight degree weather and having to wear bloody thick coveralls and steel-toe work boots like some fucking wearable sauna. He hated the sweat on his brow, the sweat of his arm pits, the sweat of his balls dripping into his arse crack. How he hadn’t ended up with a chronic case of nappy-rash he didn’t know. Lord knows he didn’t get enough breaks in a shift to head to the dunny and wipe down there every five minutes, add some baby powder, then slap his own arse and get on his way.

Johnno reckoned _he_ walked around with a piece of dunny paper up his arse to try and combat the dreaded wet arse chafing rash. After he called him a dickhead pansy, Bob actually considered doing the same damn thing himself. Then he quickly came to the conclusion that a decent fart might dislodge the dam thing, and he’d be walking about for the rest of the shift kicking a leg out like a dog trying to let it fall out of the leg of his coveralls.

Too much damn work when he had enough shit to do here.

He leaned back into the wheel well, rested his head on the bulbous hub, and closed his eyes as he took another inhale of his cigarette. He may have hated a desert summer, but he damn well loved his job and the machinery he took care of. Big beautiful machines that didn’t piss and moan and fight back like some of the new apprentices did when they didn’t get their way. Nah, they were big and silent – the very best kind of company to have on a long and tiring shift.

He petted the wall of the wheel well with a heavy-handed slap of his palm. “You’ll be right, you pretty girl,” he purred to the machine through an exhale of smoke. “But next time if you’re going to run over a foreman’s ute, make sure the bastard’s in it.” He shook his head. “Fucking idiot.”

Idiot indeed. The new foreman was a bit of a twat. He was tie-wearing, clipboard carrying, nose in the air type that had no business at all being on a mine site. Bastard flew in from Pert, probably never spent a day in any pit across the country, and inside a week blew the biggest rule of driving in the hole and completely destroyed his mine-issued vehicle … By letting it get run over by a 320 tonne fully loaded haulpak…

…Driver didn’t even feel it, or so he reckoned anyway. Just drove over the car with a dual pair of 19-foot-high 7,300 pound tyres, flattened it, and then took off like a legend to go dump his load. The only salvageable thing left of the 4x4 ute was the red indicator flag with the red flashing light … well, it would have been a red flashing light if the dickhead had’ve turned the damn thing on so the driver sitting up at 3-storeys could see there was a car underneath him.

He noticed movement on the painted metal at his hip and dropped his eyes to investigate. His lip curled at a large pair of filthy brown cockroaches scurrying around a large nut. His lip curled and he used his middle finger flicking under the pad of his thumb to fire it across the room. He switched angles to do the same to the second roach to fling it off in the opposite direction.

“Filthy creatures,” a deep, hoarse, female voice growled from the left of him.

Bob slowly shifted to look toward the woman, a short and large woman who Bob often described that if she were only two inches shorter, she’d be perfectly round. “Yeah, Shaz,” he muttered. “”Must be rains coming. Been seeing plenty of them today around the shop.”

Sharon – referred to as Shaz by her colleagues – shrugged as she wiper her hands on a blue paper shop rag. “Nothin’ being reported by the weather mob.” She threw her towel onto a workbench. “Then again, that lot don’t usually get it right anyway. Only job where you can fuck it up every day and still be employed.”

“Still,” Bob remarked as he pulled his cigarette packet from his pocket and took one out. He handed the pack to her without asking if she wanted one, and wasn’t surprised when she took the pack. “Bloody cockies showin’ up in these numbers means something’s coming.” He swatted one off the tyre with a flick of his hand, then lifted that same hand to light his cigarette.

Sharon stuck her hand out to ask for his lighter.

“Jesus, Shaz,” he remarked with a sneer. “Want me to smoke it for you too?”

She grinned toothily, holding her cigarette in her teeth as she lit it. “Nah, got that part of it thanks.” She handed back the lighter and pack and blew upward in the air. “Huntsman’s are out, too. Bloody shits. Had three of the bloody things fall from my visor on the way here this morning. Almost crashed the car over the bridge tonight and ended up in one of the ore cars of the train.”

“Pussy,” he remarked with a laugh that was an exhale of smoke. “Hunstman’s not going to do shit. Now if it was a redback, might be a different story.”

“Hey,” she defended with a lift of her hands in innocent surrender. “A spider’s a spider, Bob. Don’t like ‘em, Don’t have to.”

“Well, fuck, you moved to the wrong part of the world then, didn’t you?” He snorted out a peppered breath of smoke. “Piss off to Perth, or something…”

“Just as big there as they are here, mate,” she coughed in reply. She then tugged at the neck of her coveralls and blew out a breath. “Why the hell is it so hot in here?”

Bob shrugged. “Dunno. Air-Con might be on the fritz again…”

“Did you let the Sparkies know about it?”

“Yeah, and what are they going to do about it? Call one of the Retravision lads to come out some time in Winter?” He put the cigarette into his mouth to use both hands to push himself out of the wheel well. He landed on the floor with a loud thud and squeak of formed rubber on concrete. “Well,” he managed around the cigarette. “Smoko’s over. Best get back to it.”

Sharon lifted a brow in surprise as he walked away from the larger truck and padded toward a much smaller – but still incredibly large – 120 Tonne truck. “Not finishing up the new kid?”

He waved a hand at her then flicked his cigarette butt through an open rolling door into the carpark outside. “Nah. Need parts we haven’t got yet.” He pointed to the torn and shredded tyre of the smaller truck. “Gotto make a change on this old girl first. At least we can get her back out int the pit.”

Sharon followed behind him, sucking back a last draw on her own cigarette. “Yeah, I’ll give you a hand.” She dropped the butt to the floor and stepped on it, twisting the ball of her foot to put it out properly. “I’ll go get the pump…” Her head shot upward as the power to the room cut off with a loud thump.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Bob growled out with frustration. He stalked toward the phone hung on the wall beside the door. “Now I’ll call those fucking Sparkies and give ‘em a piece of my mind. If they aren’t ‘round here in five minutes to …” He stopped as the emergency generator kicked on and the darkness that was almost complete now existed as a dim hum from fluorescent lights.

Sharon huffed. “Well. At least we can see.”

“Can’t do much else,” he grumbled. 

“Okay,” she offered with a shrug. “Then at least we can see what we can’t get finished by end of shift… which is pretty much all of it.” Her nose curled up suddenly. A look of distaste and disgust crossed her face. “Oh Jesus, Bob. Did something crawl up your arse and die?”

“Meaning what?” he snarked back.

“Did you fart, you arsehole?” she clarified with a wave of her hand in front of her nose. “That’s rank.”

Bob shook his head as his nose crinkled to take a sniff himself. He noted a distasteful pungent odour, but it certainly wasn’t from him. “Nah, Shax. Not me. But I can see what you mean.” He looked upward and saw a green gas cloud slowly leech into the room. “Ahh, shit. That can’t be good.”

“What’s that?” Sharon’s eyes were on the ground, her nose turned upward at the thick line of large cockroaches scarpering toward one of the work vehicles. “Need pest control and an air freshener,” she muttered to herself.

A rustle in a darkened corner had the both of them snap their attentions away from bugs and dust clouds.

“Who’s there?” Bob asked sharply, knowing that the only two on staff right now were he and Sharon. “Stop fucking around and show yourself.”

“A Bungara probably just got in,” she said with a huff. “Lemme go find the sod.”

The rustle became a loud bang and crash of tools. Bob clutched at her arm. “Nah, Shaz. Best you don’t, if it’s a Bungara, it’s a bloody big one.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “And you call me a pussy,” she said with a laugh. “I’ll take a Bungie over a Hunstman any day.”

A whisper along wind, a haunting laugh, ghosted along the space between the darkened corner and the two tired mechanics. 

Sharon shuddered at the sound. “Tell me that’s just the wind.”

Bob’s voice lowered in volume to a whisper. “Never had wind laugh at me before,” he warned her. He moved his hand to a tool cabinet and took a firm hold of a large torque wrench. “Stay behind me.”

“Won’t argue with that,” she breathed as a whisper. “Age before beauty.”

Ordinarily, Bob would have a retort to that. Ordinarily, he’d also have power, air conditioning, and a cold beer in his hand. Right at this point, though, there was something not right about any of this. Despite the heat of the day, there was now a cold chill in the air. The pungent smell of rotted flesh seemed to dance all around them lie a living breathing entity following them. Singing and laughing against their ears.

The soft green mist that was swirling in the air above, began to thicken and fall like a shimmering transparent curtain.

“What the fuck is this?” Bob growled out to Sharon, who had now grabbed with fear at his arm and was tugging him to a stop. “What is going on here? Is this some kind of prank?”

“Oh, it’s no prank,” a chuckle of a voice answered. Steve’s short, but well built form stepped out of the shadows. 

On his arm was a woman wearing only a two-piece swimsuit and a sarong. She was staggered in her gait and seemed to need the support to walk. Her eyes were sunken and hollow, her face gaunt. “No joke at all,” she agreed on a haunted tone.

“Who the fuck are you two?” Bob bellowed out angrily, all fear gone now that he was face with two young adults, probably drunk. “You need to get out of here before I kick both of your arses.”

Mary chuckled softly, waving at something behind Bob’s shoulder. “Mother of mine. Father of mine. Nice of you to join us.”

Bob and Sharon spun quickly to look behind them, but saw nothing of note. Only dim lighting at mining trucks waiting for repair. “Nothing,” Bob snarled with rising fury. He twisted again on his heel, ready to stare down the young couple and actually kick their arses as promised. “I mean it you little bastarts…!”

Bob’s spin brought him face to face with a shifting column of bright green that was slowly morphing and shifting into the shape of a man. His eyes widened, as did his mouth, and in a moment the gas cloud shifted and launched at the man, using every possible orifice to enter into his body. Bob’s body shook and shuddered as the gas overtook him, gagging into suffocation until finally, and painfully he was gone.

Steve waited until the moment that both Bob and Sharon’s bodies stopped shuddering and their eyes snapped into focus. Bob looked toward the young couple with an affectionate smile of gratitude. “Son of Mine. Daughter of mine,” he greeted with a nod of his head. “Have you managed to find the Time Lord?”

“The Time Lord remains hidden, Father of Mine,” Mary answered.

“Coward,” Bob snarled.

“But aren’t they all?” Sharon asked as she stepped around him and greeted both of her children with affectionate smiles. “I’m sure it won’t take long to determine which one of the creatures here is the Time Lord.”

“The trick is making him emerge,” Bob groused. “They are tricky beasts, these Time Lords.”

“Yeah, well,” Steve smiled a lazy smile that seemed to way his entire body. “I think we know how to bring out the Time Lord.”

Bob looked to his son with a lift in hos brow. “And how do you propose to do that, Son of Mine?”

“Because we’ve tracked his mate,” he answered with a deadly smile. “And she’s right here within our reach.”


	45. Come Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bringing team TARDIS together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My most sincere apologies for missing the last two days for updates. I've been sick with what I am hoping beyond all hope is just a really unfriendly cold. I haven't been able to maintain any form of focus at all ... and that will probably be a lil'bit obvious in what I've written here.
> 
> HA!
> 
> I'm trying, okay?
> 
> I know that the last two chapters were awful, and I'm sorry about that. I've been fighting this illness for over a week now, and it shows. That said: This chapter is honestly one of those filler bits. It's me finally bringing everyone together to come up against the Family. This has honestly been started and restarted and rewritten and redone several times over the past three days ... it fought me, and it came out the victor. I can't fight it anymore. If I could keep my eyes open any longer than a half hour at a time it might help ... but ... sighhhhhh ....
> 
> Hugs if you're still with me, and please all of you stay healthy and safe!  
> I do hope that I'm plugging some holes and have produced something remotely interesting here.

~~oooOOOooo~~

The wolf whistle that he heard from the back of the classroom Jack Harkness counted as being about the 68th he’d received since the first class this morning. Now well into the fourth period for the day, and factoring in the 20-minute morning recess, that meant that he was getting whistled at at least once every 2.94 minutes..

…A new record.

Really, though. Gloat as he might, and preen and strut in as much of a feminine manner as he could, he had to admit that it was becoming quite draining. Especially when it started to hamper his lesson for the hour. Such was a man dressing as a woman in front of a bunch of hormonal teenagers.

“Really, DJ,” he muttered with a hard sigh. “You’re not exactly my type, so the cat call isn’t really doing you any favours.”

“Sorry, Sir,” he shot back with a grin. “I mean _Miss_. But you’re just looking so…”

Jack spun and pointed his small stick of chalk toward him in warning. “I’d really suggest that you seriously consider what you’re about to say. I’m not above sending you to the headmaster with an accusation of sexual harassment.” He turned and dramatically flicked the length of his fire-red wig over his shoulder. “And no, I won’t be your date to the ball, so save yourself the embarrassment and don’t ask.”

There were jeers and snickers from the class behind him, but he did his best to ignore it as he worked through the phases of mitosis on the blackboard.

“So, as I was saying before DJ decided to be an over hormonal sexist pig: Mitosis consists of four basic phases: prophase, metaphase, anaphase, and telophase. . These phases occur in strict sequential order, and cytokinesis –“ He paused his lesson as a familiar sound from outside. He looked to the open door and continued his lesson, but in a much slower pace of speech. “Is the process of dividing the cell contents to make two new cells - starts in anaphase or telophase…” 

Was that the whining and wheezing sound of a Gallifreyan travel capsule’s relative dimensional stabilizer in materialisation mode?

“Couldn’t be,” he murmured to himself as he looked toward the doorway. “Surely he’s not already here.”

Then again, he had a time machine and a damn good reason to drop by…

One of the students raised their hand. “Hey, Sir. Got a question.”

Jack set his chalk on the desk and looked toward a blonde boy, “What is it, Nick? And I swear, kid, that if it has anything to with me wearing a dress, you’ve got detention.”

The lad opened his mouth to ask the question, but was interrupted by the pulsing chime of the school siren announcing that class was over. “Never mind, Sir. I mean Miss.”

“Joke’s already been made. Try again,” He looked up to the class as they hurriedly packed up to go outside for lunch. “Okay, you lot. Exam tomorrow first period, Cellular structure and division – Plant and animal. Everyone be here on time. Late arrivals get a zero.” He pointed toward a one of the last girls leaving the room. “Alexia, you need an A on this test to pass the course. Best you study up tonight.”

“Whatever, Sir,” she said with a shrug as she turned in the door to face him. She walked backward and then blew a bubble to a pop of her gum. “I’m sure you and I could come to some kind of arrang…” She peeped when she collided with Martha. “Gee,” she remarked petulantly with a roll in her eyes. “Watch where you’re going.”

“I could say the same to you,” she warned. 

“Martha,” Jack called as he packed up his papers and tapped them to put them in line. “Did you hear the TARDIS?”

She nodded. “I did.”

“Soo if you can head him off before the old boy gets into school grounds and starts mischief.” He slipped his papers into a satchel. “I’ll head to the flat and pick up Rose and Mark. No doubt they’ll want to leave sooner rather than later.”

She nodded earnestly. “Good idea.” She gave him a wink. “You might also want to change into something a little less Vegas Show Girl…”

He grinned as he flicked his red hair over his shoulder. “But why when I look so fabulous, dah-ling?”

~~oooOOOooo~~

The travel capsule he’d been sent to Earth with had barely ceased a full materialisation, and the Doctor wanted out. Despite the warning from his travel companion to wait until his capsule had finished its final materialisation safety protocols, the Doctor was at the door.

“I really do recommend that you hold off exiting until the capsule has indicated safe arrival,” the young Gallifreyan soldier warned. “Opening the doors early can result in a malfunction of the Chameleon Circuit.”

“I am aware of that,” the Doctor replied impatiently. He opened the door, instantly shrinking back to shield himself against the brilliant lazer lighting of the capsule initiating Chameleon mode. “Oh by Rassilon.”

“And of course, one can sustain rather permanent retinal damage if the Chameleon Circuit has been activated and the capsule is undergoing the change to blend into its new environment.” He shrugged and powered down the machine. He didn’t look at the Doctor, instead finalised a few power down checklist checks on the monitor instead. “Forgot about that, did you?”

The light outside had dimmed to nothing, and the Doctor levered a glare toward the young man who had been paired with him on this trip. He clapped his hands and forced a smile. “Right. Now that you’ve safely delivered me to Sol III, you best be off. I can handle it from here. Thank you for your service to Mother Gallifrey and to the Lungbarrow family.” He walked out the door. “Goodbye.”

The young soldier actually chuckled as he exited the door behind the Doctor. “My assignment parameters are quite specific, Lord Doctor.”

“Dare I ask what they may be?” he murmured as he walked across a small and very hot shed. He held his hand upward when he finally caught sight of a twin pair of Police Box TARDISes. “Never mind answering that question, Cerulean. It was rhetorical.”

The young Time Lord sighed with a roll in his eye. “For the tenth time, Sir. My name is Tomiwtraximery, not Cerulean.”

He dipped two fingers into a small pocket on his waistcoat and retrieved a small gold yale key. “And as has been my response to each one of your corrections: I’m not going to make any form of concerted effort to remember that in full. Therefore, I will continue to call you Cerulean.” He slid the key into the lock and looked toward the young man with bright eyes and a very bright smile. “Of course if that offends you, you’re free to leave. I am more than capable of resetting the systems on my TARDIS and getting her and my family back to Gallifrey.”

“Yes, I am sure you are,” he countered with as fake a smile as the Doctor. “However, as to which century you intend of returning to does remain to be seen. His Honoured Cardinal Braiatel insists that you return to our immediate timeline. I am here to ensure that you do that.”

The Doctor gave him a glare as he pushed open the door to the TARDIS. “I fully intend on taking my family home,” he confirmed darkly. He turned to look into the ship’s console room and let out a long sigh of horror at the interior of the ship. “By Rassilon…”

Tomiwtraximery weaved around the Doctor and made a similar sound of shock. “this is your Capsule? Lord Doctor, what happened to her?”

He shook his head slowly, surprise and pain etched into his features. “This one isn’t mine. At least not the one I travel in now.” He swallowed thickly. “This is the one my future self is piloting.”

“But she’s skeletal?” He walked with a slow twirl up the ramp toward the console. “I only see a capsule in this state in the cradles before they’ve been outfitted.” He paused at the console, which looked to be a mess of hastily cobbled together switches and dials. He touched at a bicycle pump and shook his head. “Just how long has it been since he’s been to Gallifrey for parts?”

He shook his head. “I have no idea, but this is unacceptable.”

Tomiwtraximery folded his arms across his chest and pursed his lips with disapproval as he shook his head. “How she’s still functional in this state, I have no idea.”

The Doctor finally gave a shrug. “Perhaps the old girl prefers the natural look, Cerulean. You never know.”

“Unlikely,” he huffed. “They can be quite vain, these machines.

The Doctor smiled warmly and petted the console. “Nah. Not my old friend.”

“Call me Tom,” the Cerulean muttered in an abrupt change of topic.”

The Doctor looked up. “I’m sorry?”

“Tom,” he repeated. “If you won’t use my full name or title, then shorted it to Tom. I much prefer that to being disdainfully referred to as the _Cerulean_ – unless you are comfortable with me referring you to the title of the _Prydonian_.”

The Doctor’s eyes flashed for a moment. He considered the title a moment, and then shook his head. “Tom it is, then.”

Tom gave a firm nod. “Now that’s settled.” He looked around, his expression shifting to curiosity. “So just why have we broken into your elder incarnation’s capsule?”

“Didn’t need to break in,” he corrected as he fiddled with a few of the controls. “I have a key.” He flicked a switch and looked up to the monitor as he hummed to life. “And I need to see if I can find any messages to my companion regarding the change of species.” He looked down and toggled another switch. “I can’t imagine that I made such a drastic move without first recording some very specific instructions for her.”

“I think the fact the drastic effort was made in the first place…”

“If you don’t want my boot up your arse, then you won’t finish that thought,” the Doctor warned with a dark look. “Remember that this Time Lord is me, so do offer him the same respect that you afford to who I am now.”

Tom held up his hands and took a step backward. “Of course, you’re right,” he admitted. “My apology.”

The Doctor’s eyes were on the monitor. His voice was quiet. “And I’ll also expect you to ignore my when I call him out as being a damn fool.” His elder self’s face appeared on screen, and he held up a hand to prevent his companion from speaking.

His focus was tight and sharp, and he leaned against the console with the grip of both hands as his elder self went through twenty-three difference sets of instructions. He didn’t glean too much from it, at least not from the instructions themselves; they were a fairly rudimentary set of rules. The pear thing seemed to be somewhat out of the ordinary, and no amount of reading between the lines or trying to see the metaphorical meaning to it could provide anything further than the fact the man hated pears and didn’t want to wake up with that taste in his mouth…

…Well that could be arranged.

“He appears quite worried,” Tom muttered after the screen froze to end the communication. “And adverse to pears.”

The Doctor nodded slowly. “His concern for himself and for Martha are quite palpable, I’ll agree to that. But as for anything else, this was all nonsensical rubbish.”

Tom smirked and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I wasn’t going to say that. Glad you did.”

“However, it turns out that the bio-data receptible is a watch. Quite likely the one I usually wear now.” He pulled it form his waistcoat pocket and twisted and turned it in the light of the monitor. “True, it doesn’t have a cover on it right now, but as it is the only one I am aware of, I would say that this is what we’ll be looking for.”

“I’d expect Martha has it,” Tom offered with a wag of his brow and a smile on his lip.

He shook his head. “No. The watch has to be kept on my person,” he corrected. “Martha should have an idea where I keep it, but she wouldn’t have it.”

Tom grinned. “Then perhaps we should find Martha. We can discuss with her….”

“And you can keep your filthy Cerulean hands off her,” he warned with a point of his finger. “As the Time Lord responsible for her safety and well being, I order you not to play your imprinting fancy hands games with her.” He levered his head into a hard tilt of warning. “Am I understood?”

“Perfectly,” Tom answered with a disarming smile. 

The Doctor walked by him. “And get rid of the guns,” he demanded with a point toward the holster at his thigh. “Humans tend to panic when someone shows up with a weapon and really, you don’t need them.”

Tom’s brows lifted high. He looked down at the lazer blaster at his thigh. “Are you sure of that? My capsule systems say that we’re in a facility full of adolescent Humans.”

The Doctor’s eyes flared, and he found himself actually considering it. Finally he shook his head and let out a sigh. “Leave them.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

One of the things he had to say was the worst thing about teaching had to be sacrificing his lunch hour to cover off the field and try to keep a bunch of rowdy teenagers from trying to kill themselves and each other. It was particularly frustrating when it was 48 degrees out, and the only areas of shade available were already full to capacity. To his left, a foursome of teens were playing a game of handball with a tennis ball, all of them in a long line and trying to trip up their competitors with a trick shot or fancy slap of the ball. The remainder of the group all milled in the stairwell, waiting for their turn to join the game. He noticed one of them with a lighter, trying to ignite a spider in its web. With a sigh of annoyance, he approached the teen and held out his hand. 

“Peter,” he said tiredly. “Hand it over.”

Peter looked up innocently. “What?”

“The lighter,” he clarified with a wriggle of his finger. “Come on, you know they’re banned from school property.” He looked at the web. “And really, what did that poor creature ever do to you?”

He shrugged as he handed over a red plastic Bic lighter. “It’s a redback, Sir. I’m only trying to protect my fellow students from getting bitten.”

“If I knew you to be a valiant lad,” he began as he pocketed the lighter into the pocket of his shorts, “then I might buy that. However, being that you chased Robyn with a redback on a stick last week trying to put it in her hair, I’m not making any purchases of that nature.”

“A man can change,” he defended with a shrug.

“Indeed a _man_ can,” he agreed. “You, however, are still a child.” He turned and walked away. “Come see me after school to get this back.”

He walked back into the sunshine and blew a breath up into his fringe. A group of elder teens were involved in a pick up game of Australian Rules Football. It wasn’t exactly allowed in this small play area, but he wasn’t about to tell them off. That admonishment he could guarantee would come from the five girls who had claimed the only picnic table and bench as their hangout. That lot weren’t part of any particular group of populars, geeks, or grunge, and therefore really didn’t cate about affecting their reputation by telling anyone to get lost and play their games elsewhere…

…Pretty much like him and his peer group back at the Academy… Ehm … high school.

He laughed when one of them, a tall tomboy called Tania, snatched the oblong-shaped ball from the air and promptly kicked it over the fence. “Take it to the oval,” she yelled out angrily. “You know the rules, Oliver.”

John waited silently, with a low head and a hunch in his shoulder in wait to see what Oliver would do. He watched the lad through his brows, an expression of warning that he hoped the kid could read. Oliver did take a step toward Tania, but then thought better of it when he caught sight of the teacher.

“Good lad,” Smith called when Oliver just waved a hand that involved a raised middle finger to Tania, but then walked off. His head lifted to the centre centre building, and to the small domed bell as it pulsed a 10-chime sound of warning that lunch was officially over and that all students were to move to their last period of the day. “Okay, you lot,” he called out. “Wrap it up and get to last period.”

The football was launched over the fence and landed at John’s feet. He stooped to pick it up, and tossed it to a waiting student. 

“Not supposed to throw it, Sir,” the lad called out. He made a motion of punching it at the back of the ball. “You punch it. Like this … it’s not a rugby ball.”

“Rugby’s a sissy’s game,” another chirped out. “Specially Union. Only the Poms play that shit…”

“Right,” he drawled. He had no desire to engage in a Aussie Rules versus Ruby Union discussion right now. “You’re right. Of course.”

“Ahhh, football in the school yard,” A smooth voice chipped from his right. “It’s been a while, of course, several centuries, but I do recall the games the cadets played in the academy grounds back in our day.”

John’s expression shifted to annoyance mixed with surprise as he turned to his head to the person standing at his side. Turns out it wasn’t just one man, but a pair of them. One of them dressed in silk and velvet, like a Bronte character come to life. The other dressed in blue camouflage army fatigues. Bronte seemed well at ease and comfortable in the school ground, the army fellow looked around with a sense of excitement and awe, like he’d never seen a school yard before.

“I’m sorry,” he began with authority in his tone. “Who are you; and what are you doing lurking about in a school yard?”

“Ahh,” he breathed out through an open mouth. “You don’t recognise me.”

John tilted his head to one side and lifted a brow. “Am I supposed to?”

He exhaled hard with a disappointed shake in his head. “I guess not right now.” He turned to him and held out a hand of greeting. “I’m the Doctor. I take it you’re John Smith? I’ve heard about you from Jack ad Martha. They’re friends of mine. Care to direct me toward where I Can find them?”

John looked at the hand for a moment and debated leaving the man hanging. Propriety, however, he took it for a firm shake with a very tight squeeze. The Doctor, right? “You must be Rose’s husband.”

“I am indeed her very devoted mate,” the Doctor murmured with a slight grit in his teeth as he matched John’s tight grip with one of his own. “I take it the two of you have met?”

John’s grip tightened further, the game of domination now on. “I have,” he grit out. “She’s quite an amazing woman.”

His hand tightened in kind. “Indeed she is.”

“Very amazing.”

Tom stepped forward, cradled his hands behind his back, and made a show of stooping down to check the grip between the two men. “Is this how Humans assert dominance between males?” He remained in the stoop as his eyes lifted to the Doctor. “And who is winning?”

Both John and the Doctor looked toward him, but it was John who answered. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Martha stepped in to the group and pressed her hands over where the two men were joined. She levered a smile up toward the handsome newcomer as she tried to force them apart. “In the pissing war between the human male,” she began in a teasing time. “There are no victors, just bruised hands and egos.”

The man in blue straightened up with a bright smile. He quickly removed the felt uniform beret from his head and held it behind his back as he offered her a gentile bow. His deep brown eyes were wide and sparkled with excitement. “Well, hello beautiful. It has been a while.” He removed his white glove and held out his hand in greeting.

The Doctor roughly withdrew his hand from John’s with a snatch. He held it behind his back, flexing and stretching his fingers to work out the pain from John’s grip. John hid his own hands behind his back, one rubbing at the other . While his eyes were on the human version of himself, his words were soft in greeting toward his future’s companion. “Hello Martha,” he said with a smile. His eyes shifted warningly toward Tom. “You remember The Cerulean.”

Martha’s eyes widened. The Cerulean she remembered was a blonde man with lavender eyes and a cheeky smile. This man was dark haired, had a perfectly chiseled jaw, and deep deep brown eyes that seemed to swim and swirl. Her head shook. “No. That isn’t him.”

“Regenerated,” he cooed softly, with a deep voice. “With you on my mind as the change took hold.”

“Oh give it a rest,” the Doctor growled. He slapped the young man’s hand down. “Remember what we talked about.”

John looked between them. “I’m not going to pretend to know what any of you are talking about.” He looked to Martha. “I have a class to get to. I’ll assume you’re in safe hands here?”

“I am,” she answered softly. “Best you be off, then.”

He nodded. “And best you get your friends off school property before Hurrell sees them.” He nodded to the Doctor. “Pleasure to _finally_ see you.”

The trio watched him leave, his hands in his pockets and a kick in the brown grass. The Doctor’s eyes were narrowed. He kept his eyes on the departing figure. “I take it he hasn’t been changed back to his Time Lord self.”

Martha shook her head. “No. Not yet. Jack and I figured that if you and Rose were going to leave, then it wasn’t necessary to derail his original plan.”

“You say that like Rose will leave,’ The Doctor answered. He looked toward her and his expression softened. “I anticipate her wanting to stay until she knows I’m safe.”

Martha smiled and lowered her head. “We’ve got quite a bit of time left before the Doctor wants to be turned back into a Time Lord.”

“How long?”

“Nearly two months.”

“Ahhh,” he breathed out. “I dare say that timeline may be brought forward if word from Gallifrey High Command holds any water.”

“What do you mean?” She grinned toward the Cerulean, who had moved slightly closer to her. “Do you have a name?”

“Tomiwtraximery,” he answered smoothly, “but you can call me Tom.”

The Doctor pointed to his left, the opposite side of him to where Martha stood. “And you can stay here. Right here. Without moving. Ri-i-i-ght here.” He took hold of the young Lord’s shoulder and tugged him to his left. “Stay,” he warned him like he would a dog.

Tom did as he was forced to do and rolled his eyes at the other Time Lord. “To answer your question, Beautiful, Gallifrey High Command registered a non-terran ship entering the Earth’s atmosphere two days ago. The landing site was approximately 180 kilometres from where we landed our capsule.” He looked toward the Doctor. “The data we were able to gather from the satellites within Earth’’s outer atmosphere showed consistency with the last known intel of the Family’s technology…”

“Do you need that simplified any?” the Doctor asked her with an honest expression of question.

“No, no,” she answered, not taking as much offence as was warranted. “I’m caught up, thanks.”

“Of course you are,” he said with a smile. “As I said to you on our last meeting: you are brilliant.” His smile fell. “But that means the family are close by, and may well have already taken on new forms.” He looked to Tom. “That will make identification of them quite difficult, and put everyone here in danger.”

“Including your mate,” Tom agreed with darkness in his tone. “I don’t need to tell you that her safety is paramount, Sir. Her High President and the Cardinal made that very clear before we left Gallifrey.”

“I didn’t need them to tell me that,” the Doctor growled. “Her safety, as well as my son’s, is always paramount.”

Tom curled around the Doctor to bring them face to face. “Then allow me to immediately transport them to Gallifrey. If you wish to deal with the problem here on Earth, then you can do so.” He shook his head. “I’m not going to allow you to prolong their danger.”

“If Rose is agreeable, then yes, I will allow that.”

Martha let out a laugh. “Yeah, something tells me she won’t be. Not if there are two of you here.”

“Speaking of my mate,” the Doctor managed. “Where is she?”

She heard the squeal and then scrape of tyres on loose gravel from the front of the school. A smile spread across her face knowing full well that it was Jack. “Looks like she might be here,” she said fondly. “When we heard the TARDIS land, Jack went to the flat to pick her up.”

He nodded eagerly, his eyes on the front building in wait. The wait was short, however. He quickly saw the brown hair of his little boy, and the white fur of the wolf that would always protect him, running across the grass toward them.

“Papa!!” Mark cried out with excitement. “You’re here!”

He launched forward, running in a stoop low enough to be able to scoop that young scamp into his arms for a very long overdue embrace of relief. He called out his boy’s name as he captured him with his hands and spun the two of them around in a wide and fast twirl that lifted Mark’s feet and legs into the air. The lad pealed out a squeal of pure thrill as he was finally pulled into his father’s relieved chest. He held him tightly and spoke soft words of affection into the boy’s ear as he curled around him.

“Oh my boy, I’ve missed you.” He pulled back. “Are you okay? Have you been safe?”

Mark’s smile was wide and excited. His voice was a growl. “Oh, papa! It’s been great!” He then settled a guilty expression on his face. He softened his voice. “But I missed you lots and lots.”

“And I, you,” he assured him. His eyes looked across the boy’s head and to the slow approach of the woman who held his hearts. “Rose,” he breathed out longingly. “My hearts.”

Mark chuckled. “Uh-oh,” he laughed out. “Kissy kissy time, right?” He wriggled to be let down and made kissing sounds. “Don’t need to be here for this.”

The Doctor let his child down and was still in a stoop as he took a stride toward his wife. “Rose,” he called along a whisper.

She moved to within only a few feet of him and held up her hand, looking at him with suspicion. “Are you _you_?” she asked. “Are am I being setup for another holographic fall on my arse?”

A cheeky grin crossed his face. “You tell me,” he called out as he launched forward in a manner very similar to the one he had adopted when he went running for his son. His breath was a growl as he grabbed her underneath her butt and lifted her up against his chest. He didn’t twirl them like he had with Mark, instead he held her up so that her chest was in his face, and her head high up above his. He revelled in the thrilled sound she laughed out.

Rassilon, he’d missed that sound.

She quickly struggled to be let down, which he immediately acquiesced to. She cupped his face in both hands and pulled him into what must have been the most sloppy, hurried, messy, uncoordinated kiss in the entire history of mankind. There was nothing about the scene to admire or swoon over, if anything it made everyone present feel incredibly awkward.

“Rose, Rose Rose,” he peppered out with light laughter between her smooches. “Hearts, I missed you too.”

“Connection,” she panted out. “Please?”

He breathed out a sound of understanding and drew up his hand to trace against her jaw as his fingers met with her temple. Almost immediately the both of them let out a long sigh and the frantic mess of their greeting softened out to something much more romantic and pure. 

After a moment they separated, but remained close together, their foreheads touching.

“What took you so long?” she whispered after a moment. 

“Stealing a TARDIS these days isn’t as easy as it once was,” he admitted on a whisper. He kept his forehead against hers, but pulled back his chest to take something from his pocket. “I bought you something,” he said softly as he snapped a gold bangle around her wrist. He snapped it closed and turned it with his fingertips. “Don’t take it off.”

She pulled back from him completely now. She held her wrist and turned the shimmering gold bangle around. It was beautiful, perfectly so, too perfectly so. With a turn of amusement in her lip, she held it up to show him. “Okay, what is it?”

“A present,” he answered simply. “Like it?”

“You don’t buy me random presents,” she said with a suspicious pinch in her eye. “And especially not jewellery…”

“Well maybe I thought it would be a bice gesture for a change…”

Her voice shifted to complete suspicion. “What is it?”

He slumped. “Okay. It’s a bio damper. Picked it up from the Capitol before we came down.” He offered her a smile. “Means that your bio-signature can’t be tracked by any nefarious types looking for, oh, I dunno, a Time Lord or his mate.” He showed his own wrist, where an identical bangle sat tightly on his wrist. “Look, we match. That’s romantic, yes?”

“From you,” she admitted with a laugh and a cuddle. “Of course it is.” Her lips pursed. “So I take it this means you don’t intend on leaving and whisking me back to Gallifrey any time soon?”

“Would you let me?”

She shook her head. “Not until I know you’re safe.”

“That’s what I thought,” he admitted with a sigh that told her he had hoped she’d leave quietly. He put an arm over her shoulder and walked them back to Martha, Tom, Mark, and Jack.. “So. As it looks like all of us are going to be sticking around for a while…” he sighed. “Best we start to do what we can to keep my future … and everyone else in this town safe.” He exhaled and his voice darkened. “Because I really don’t believe for a moment that this is going to be anywhere as easy as my future self thinks it will be.”

Jack gave a nod of agreement. “When is it ever?” He looked up to the balcony, where the now Human Time Lord leaned against the balcony railing looking down at the group with an absolute forlorn expression on his face. He seemed to sniff and close his eyes in defeat before he turned and walked into the classroom. “Not easy at all.”


	46. Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team TARDIS chat...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are the best, all checking up on me and stuff. 
> 
> All is groovy right now. I'm on day 7 of 14 days self-isolation that I was told I had to take as I was exposed to someone who was exposed to someone else confirmed to have COVID-19. Doesn't help when you have a cold in saying: "Nah, totally good, nothing to see here."
> 
> No, not infected myself. Still just a cold or just general tiredness as my hubby and son are perfectly healthy right now...
> 
> Hopefully now I can get back on track with this fic. It sucks when I'm unable to focus and get stuff done! 
> 
> Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you for all of your wonderful comments and support!!

~~oooOOOooo~~

There was a level of eerier silence in the console room of the Tenth Doctor’s TARDIS. Despite there being four adults, one usually rambunctious child, and a white wolf, not a lot was actually being said as both Tom and the Doctor moved around the console station trying to make sense of the junkyard that was her current console. More than once, a man uttered a low curse in Gallifreyan as they were either zapped, pinched, or received no response at all for their efforts.

To the side, on a jump seat that looked together with silver-grey duct tape, sat Rose and Martha. Both of them adopted similar, but uniquely theirs positioning as they watched the slow dance of the Time Lords. Rose sat in a forward lean, her knees parted in a man-spreading fashion. Her elbows were on her knees and her chest was forward. Martha was in avery similar lean, except that her legs were crossed at the thigh in an almost delicate fashion.

Occasionally, Rose would lift a hand to gnaw at the edge of her thumbnail. Her eyes would lift to watch the movements of her husband as though scrutinizing his every move. There was analysis in her, almost as though she were making comparisons in her mind between he and the man who was now Human.

This really didn’t go unnoticed by Martha, who flicked her eyes between the Doctor’s failed attempts at working out the ship’s controls and his wife who intently watched him. Occasionally her attention would drift toward the Cerulean soldier, and invariably a smile would cross her face. More than once his eyes drifted toward her and she’d be rewarded with a smile from him, but then shed blush and turn away, returning her attentions toward Rose.

“Regeneration?” she asked finally and quietly, almost a whisper, to Rose. “So they change completely?”

Rose kept her thumbnail at her lip and looked toward Martha with a lift in her brow. Her lips pursed in thought. The purse broke with a light kiss in the air. “Yes, and no.” the last word extended long through lips ready to purse again. “Physically they change completely. Emotionally, well…” She let out a breath and flicked her eyes to her husband. “He assures me that they don’t, but in my experience..”

“Your experience was unique,” the Doctor offered from the console. There was frustration in his eyes, but it was clearly not directed toward her. “While, indeed, a Time Lord or Lady will experience physical changes, and changes to their personality, the core of who they are is supposed to remain.”

Martha looked up at him. “Which means…?”

Tom entered the conversation at this point. “It means their soul, and the emotion toward everyone or everything that they care for remains intact. Such as my affection for the beautiful woman that saved my life a regeneration ago.” He looked toward the Doctor, expecting an expression of agreement, but instead received a stare of annoyance. “I’m not mistaken, am I?”

“You certainly are if you expect me to allow you to continue to make my future companion uncomfortable with your overt displays of affection.” He lifted a finger of warning and pointed at him. “So please stop.”

Martha waved it off. “Nah,” she drawled with a smile and a wave of her hand. “It’s okay, Doctor. It might be a bit much, but it’s nice to know I’m appreciated.”

“Adored,” Tom corrected with a light bow.

“Stalked,” the Doctor amended with a growl. “Inappropriately harassed. Really, Cerulean, do you mind?” He kept his eyes on the other Time Lord for a long time before softening his gaze to shift his attention back toward Martha. “While I don’t appreciate his approach at all, I do have to concur with Tom here regarding a Time Lord’s affections remaining with him from incarnation to incarnation.”

“But that doesn’t mean that a Time Lord or Lady’s chosen mate caries on those same affections toward a new incarnation,” Tom added. “Which is why imprinting and bonding are so important.” He looked to Rose, and then to Martha. “Imprinting allows a Time Person in regeneration to become … likeable … to their chosen one, rather than taking a stabbed guess at it.” He finished his amendment with a wide grin.

“So then what happened?” Rose asked the Doctor without beating around the bush or being gentle about it. “I’m going to guess that you and me imprinted and then some when we were …” She waited for someone to pick up on the implication, but received only silence and curious looks. “Well, when we… you know.”

“Made love,” the Doctor finally offered. “Yes, Indeed. Physical mating is a few steps beyond imprinting. Marriage to my people if you will.”

“Then what happened?” she asked again. “I mean with him.” She pointed to the doorway in a gesture toward the Time Lord in the school beyond their doors. 

“I don’t know,” he answered without looking at her.

Tom looked to the Doctor and then back to Rose. He was perplexed by the question, there was no doubt about that with the expression on his face. “Am I permitted to ask for clarification on this _what happened_ situation?”

“No you may not,” the Doctor answered firmly. “It’s really quite irrelevant to anyone beyond Rose and myself.”

“Coming from a chapter that are specialists in Bonding rites and telepathic imprinting…”

“Doesn’t mean that you have full authority to interfere in the love life of myself or any future incarnations,” the Doctor snapped in reply.

Tom nodded. His reply was slowly and softly spoken. “And yet you feel that you can take authority over my affections toward another. Not hypocritical in the slightest.”

Rose appeared at Tom’s side. She pulled her hair from her face with a swipe of her finger. “So how come the Doctor, when he changed, seemed to lose all interest in picking up where the former him left off when he exploded in regeneration fire?”

A frown creased his brow. “He shouldn’t have,” he suggested. “I’d imagine he would have been a little more eager after the fire to reaffirm your bond.” He tilted his head. “He wasn’t?”

“Rose,” the Doctor butt in gently. “With all my respect to you, can I please ask that you don’t discuss the relationship between you and I and any future incarnation of me with the Cerulean?” He looked back at the console. “We have much more important matters to attend to right now.”

She thrust her hands into the pockets of her jeans and shrugged into a slouch. “Okay, sorry,” she breathed out in a very _I just got chided_ manner. “So what are we doing then?”

“Not much,” Tom admitted as he finally gave up on a lever and gave it an annoyed flick. “At least not with this junkyard mess.”

The Doctor, despite struggling In much the same way as the young Lord, gave him an affronted glare. “Do be mindful of just who pilots this capsule.” He swept his hands over the console. “Obviously I am perfectly adept at piloting this beautiful ship in the state that she’s in.” He looked at Rose, and then at Martha. “Am I not?”

Both women’s eyes widened and their mouth’s snapped shut. They shared an identical expression as they quickly and tightly shook their heads at each other.

“Well, ladies?” the Doctor pressed. “Have I not taken the two of you across the universe, all time and space, piloting this magnificent ship in the state that she’s in right now?”

Rose slinked around Tom and moved toward her husband. With a smile she wrapped her arms round his arm. “I love you, Doctor. With all of my heart.”

He looked down at her with an expression of understanding. “Still having navigational issues?”

“Little bit.”

Beside her, Tom gave a grin. He clapped his hands together with almost a cheer. “Oh! I’ve heard of this!”

Martha appeared at his side. “Heard of what?”

He gestured toward the Doctor and Rose with both hands. “This thing that Humans do with their mates. The whole I love you thing when they want to appease rather than admit something isn’t all as it should be.”

The Doctor flashed him a glare.

Tom continued with an excited look toward Martha. “The Lord Doctor is seeking your confirmation that he is a very adequate navigational pilot of a Capsule, despite the thrown-together construction of the console. Rose doesn’t want him upset that he’s incorrect in that summation, and so instead she tries to appease him by telling him that she loves him in the hope that either the subject will change or that his pride in being assured that he is indeed loved by his mate will…”

“Stop!” the Doctor demanded hotly. His heat lowered to a petulant simmer. “We are not here for analysis nor a nature channel documentary.”

Tom’s eyes widened and how brows lifted curiously. ‘I’m sorry, what?”

“Never mind,” he breathed back as a sigh. “How about you head back to your capsule and fins some parts and supply that we can give to this ship to help my future in bringing her back to where she needs to be,” He then levered a judgmental glare at him. “And while you’re at it, please ask your capsule to provide you with appropriate clothing for the location and timeline she’s landed you in.”

Tom pursed his lips to a pucker. He gave the Doctor a firm nod. “Right. Of course.” He walked to the door. “And my capsule is male, by the way. Do be more mindful about that going forward.” He softened his gaze and his posture and looked toward Martha. “Would you like to accompany me, Beautiful?”

“No she would not,” the Doctor answered sharply.

“I’d love to,” Martha corrected quickly.

“I’d really prefer that you didn’t,” the Doctor said softly.

She put her hand on his arm. “I’m a big girl,” she said with humour. “And quite capable of holding my own against sneaky Cerulean hands.” She opened her mouth when he opened his to stop his protest. “I’ll be fine, Doctor. Have some trust in me.”

He gave her a nod. “Don’t be long.”

He watched with guarded eyes as the pair of them walked out of the TARDIS. Once gone, he then quickly turned back to the console. His tone of voice was suspicious and slightly out of sorts when he spoke to his wide without looking at her.

“Now that we are alone,” he began. “Might I ask a question?”

“Sure,” she replied with an eager chirp in her tone. “And then I’ll ask you one…”

He still didn’t look at her. “What do you want to know?”

“You first,” she offered, not sensing for a moment anything was amiss, despite his now quiet tone.

He toggled a switch and kept his eyes on the monitor as it scrolled through a few screens of ship data. “A couple of days ago,” he said after a swallow. “In your timeline. I felt something discomforting through the bond. Our bond.”

Her mind hummed a sound of realisation that drew a slight wince. “Yeah. Jack suggested that you might have.”

His voice was soft. “Who was it?”

“John,” Rose answered with the same soft voice as he was using. “He was convinced that I was someone special to him and ..” she breathed out. “And he kissed me.”

The Doctor shook his head. “I wouldn’t have felt it if it was him,” he said with a slowly angering pout of his lip. “And neither would you.”

She tilted her head at him. “So what’re you accusing me of, then, Doctor?”

He didn’t answer, just gave her a tired look of hurt.

She shook her head at him, defiance rising within her. “I’m not playing about,” she clarified. “If that’s what you’re thinking.” She took a long deep breath. “John kissed me at the campsite the other night. That’s it. Planted one on me and the next thing I know I’m on the floor in pain feelin’ like I wanted to die.” She lifted her finger at him. “And that would’ve been a nice warning, you know. Might’ve been polite of you to let me know that I can’t even get a kiss from a friend without bein’ in pain.”

“A kiss from a friend,” he breathed out slowly. “Jack?”

“Oh,” she laughed out darkly. “Don’t you even go there. Jack was my best friend when we were travellin’ together. Like a brother to me. Yes, he gives me a kiss when he sees me. Hell, he even kissed you back when you wore leather …” She narrowed her eyes. “ _And_ trusted me.”

“Well what am I supposed to think?” he demanded. “You take off and disappear for two weeks…”

“It’s been three days,” she corrected sharply. “Don’t be so overdramatic.”

“Your friend _Jack_ ,” he snapped with a seethe on that word, “is not nearly adept at Capsule communications as he thinks he is. The signal he sent reached Gallifrey a little more than two weeks after you’d left. So, yes, it’s been two weeks for me.” He huffed. “Two weeks of panic wondering where my family were, and then getting a telepathic warning that my wife is engaged in romantics with another man.”

“That _other man_ that you’re panicking about is the Human version of you!” Her lip curled. “And don’t you ever refer to Jack in the way you just did. Believe me, in your future he becomes someone very special to the both of us.”

“Just how _special_?”

Her jaw gaped at the question. “How dare you.”

“Do you understand what a soul-bond is, Rose?” He growled.

“Well obviously not,” she chipped back. “Considerin’ you didn’t bother to properly explain it to me before you formed that bond.”

“It ensures that two bonded mates will _always_ be able to find each other, that they will _always_ remain true to each other, and no matter where they end up along their mate’s timeline or incarnation, they will _always_ know and love each other.” He moved close to her. “which means, if John, or any one of me chose to kiss you, there would be no pain of infidelity, because your soul would know him.”

“Well then your whole bond thing is wrong,” she challenged with a sniff and a tear in her eye. “Because he kissed me on the rocks, and I fell in pain. You don’t believe me, ask Jack. He witnessed the whole thing.” She stepped in against his chest, rolling up onto her toes to bring herself up high enough to glare into his eyes with hurt and offence. “You remember him, yeah? He was wearing a red, sequined mini-dress and stiletto shoes with sparkles on them. Red wig. More makeup on his face than I even own back on Gallifrey.” She wiped at her eye with the back of her hand and stepped away from him. “Totally my type, apparently.”

“Rose,” he ventured apologetically.

“And you know what, when you ask him, do it on your own,” she growled as she stalked toward the doors of the TARDIS. “I need to take a walk.”

“No, Rose,” he cautioned in a choked voice. “You can’t go out there, it’s not safe.”

She let out a laugh but didn’t turn around. “Yeah, and if I stay in here, then you’ll be the one that’s unsafe.”

“Rose, don’t go,” he pleaded quietly as he met her at the door and took her hand.

She snatched her hand from his. “Don’t touch me,” she snarled, missing the metalling twang of something snall hitting the grating at her feet.. “Just leave me alone.”

Rose pulled hard on the door and stepped out into the heat outside. She blew out a breath as a reaction to the heat, but continued on and out of the shed that held three Gallifreyan travel capsules.

The Doctor watched her go, his hand still held upward as though holding her hand, with a forlorn expression of regret on his face. He considered going after her to immediately sort out the problem so that she wasn’t running away from him mad – particularly when there was another man willing to comfort her – but with their son napping deep inside the TARDIS, he couldn’t.

“Papa?”

Speak of the Time Tot. 

He turned with a smile to his son and stooped. He held open his arms to his sleepy little boy. “You’re awake?”

He nodded, rubbing at his eye with his little fist. He yawned with a wide mouth. “Where’d mama go?”

He picked up his child and held him on his hip. He kissed at his temple and sighed as he inhaled a deep breath of his son’s sleepy scent. “She went for a walk,” he whispered softly. “She wont be long.” He held his child and walked them toward the TARDIS kitchen. “Let’s go make you something to eat.”

On the grated floor behind him lay a bangle of Gold its clasp open.

~~oooOOOooo~~

John Smith leaned his hands on the top of the lecture table at the front of his classroom. Class ended fifteen minutes ago – a rambunctious group of Grade 10 students – and now he had a pile of test papers to read, grade, and then hopefully not fear for the state of humanity when he handed out the standard handful of F grades. He didn’t get it. Physics really wasn’t all that difficult a concept to grasp. At least not Grade ten curriculum, anyway. And considering these kids were all growing up in a town built for mining, and many would likely end up with apprenticeships at the mine, he expected a little more from them.

Well. Expecting any real focus from a bunch of fifteen year olds who were much more interested in talking about Jack Horn and his dress was a moot endeavour.

He let his eyes scan over the first page of one of the tests. This one from a student who tried her very best to get a handle on it all, but really couldn’t seem to get it. He could already see several incorrect answers on the sheet.

“Hi John.”

His eyes lifted and he instinctively smiled at the friendly greeting, although he wasn’t really up for visitors right now. “Hi Joan.”

She moved across the floor with a slink in her step. She stepped up to his side and pressed herself against his arm. “What’cha doing?”

“Getting ready to have my fears confirmed that the future of humanity is doomed,” he answered with a sigh. “None of these kids have any enthusiasm for the curriculum at all.”

She laughed with understanding and agreement. “You’re preaching to the choir, John. Try teaching this lot about Shakespeare.” She shook her head. “No interest at all.”

“Too many hormones affecting their brain function,” he huffed. 

She hummed in song and slid her hands around his back toward his arse. “Talking of hormones,” she purred.

His breath caught in surprise, but he didn’t push her away. Instead he curled around her to walk her backward up against the side of the table. He dropped his hands to hook underneath her thighs and lifted her up onto the desk, bringing her chest to his face and her knees around his arms.

She hummed happily. “It looks like teacher might be swimming with the same hormones as his class.”

He dropped his nose in between her breasts and breathed out a sharp breath through his nose. His inhale drew in the scent of her perfume – Yves St Laurant Opium – and he pressed a kiss to her breastbone. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

“you don’t know what?” she asked him with a tightening of the wrap of her legs around his arms. 

“I don’t know,” he repeated as he ran the tip of his nose along the along the edge of one of her breasts. His nose hit the edge of her bra and he found himself pulling backward from her. “I wish I did.”

She curled her hadns around the back of his head, holding him close as he tried to back away. “Can I help you work it out?”

He lifted a hand to trace his fingertip along the line of her bra, It paused, and then circled the fading bruise of a love bite. “I didn’t give you this,” he remarked on a whisper.

“No,” she agreed with him. “But you can if you want.”

His eyes were locked on the bruise, all black and purple fading to yellow. His nose scrunched upward with distaste, but he made no effort to back away from her. “I really don’t like to share,” he said flatly.

“Are you looking for exclusivity, then?” she asked with a wriggle in her seat.

He shrugged. ‘I really don’t know what I’m looking for.”

She let out a huff and dropped her hands from his head. “Jesus, John,” she huffed out impatiently. Se ran her hands down along her body as though in presentation of herself. “Either you want this or you don’t. You don’t get to give me a hard time If I’m getting some attention from someone else if you’re not willing to give me what it is I need.”

His eyes flicked up. “So what is it you need then, Joan? Sex, or companionship?”

“What about both?” she answered, her arms folding to cross her chest. “You’ve been fun to play and fool around with, but damn you, I want more.”

“What is it you want from me, exactly?”

She tilted her head at him. “I would think that’s obvious, don’t you?” She tightened the hold of her thighs around his chest in an attempt to pull him closer. She leaned her head down to his and whispered out a husky voice. “I’m offering myself to you, John, why aren’t you taking me?”

_Maybe because when I think of us like this I’m thinking of someone else_ , his mind supplied indignantly. “I don’t know,” he answered instead. “I really don’t.”

“Aren’t you interested?” she asked with a curl in her lip. “Am I not good enough for you?”

“I don’t know,” he repeated again, this time with a frustrated grit in his teeth. He took a long stride back from her, long enough that his back hit up against the blackboard. “Of course you’re good enough,” he snarled. He ran his hand up and down in the air in front of her. “Look at you, Joan. You’re a stunning woman. You’ve got a thrilling mind and a body…” He blew out an impressed breath through pursed lips. “Well, you’ve got a body that can drive a man insane…”

“Then what’s your problem?” she asked with a blink in her eyes.

“I don’t know,” he seethed out again. “How many times do I have to say it?”

“It’s _her_ , isn’t it?” she ventured finally, a curl in her lip that displayed her disgust in who this _her_ was. She caught the flick of his eyes toward her, and the anger they held within. “Rose,” she clarified.

“What about her?”

“You think you’re in love with her, don’t you?” She waved her hand at him before he could stammer through a denial. “No sense in denying it. Since she arrived, you’ve shut down from me almost completely.” She pushed herself off the table and stood in front of him, her arms across her chest. “The last time I had your dick in my hand…”

“Is there any need to be so crass?” he snapped angrily with a glare down his nose at her. “I get it, you’re offended, but there’s no need to speak like that.”

“As I was saying,” she breathed out. “The last time you and I had any form of intimacy – and I’m being generous when I call it that, mind you – it wasn’t my name you grit out through your teeth. It was hers.” Her eyes hardened. “And when you said it.” He eyes widened and then fell into a wince of remembrance. “It was the most passionate and desperate kiss I’ve ever had if I’m being honest with you.” She let out a sigh. “Might’ve actually let you go though with what you intended on doing, but despite what all of you think about my looseness, I do have _some_ standards. Knocking back a hard screw because you’ve gotten hard over another woman is one of them.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly with honest apology.

“No,” she disagreed with a soft shake of her head. “You’re not. And you really shouldn’t be, I guess. Love’s love, and denial’s denial.” She lifted her eyes to him, the fold of her arms lessening in tightness. “It’s not like you and I were anything more than occasional stress relievers.”

His eyes flashed and then closed with regret. 

She ran a hand though her hair. “I’ll admit it would have been nice to actually get you in bed at least once. I reckon you might’ve been a wild one once you finally let go and succumbed to it.”

“Unlikely,” he admitted. “Control is the only thing that holds me together. Losing that would be my undoing.”

“Then you should let yourself become undone.” She held up her hand when she saw that he was going to retort. “And I’m not saying with me. Not anymore.” She shrugged. “You don’t like to share, and I won’t let you pretend that I’m someone else.”

“No,” he agreed. “You’re right.” He exhaled and closed his eyes, levering his head backward to rest against the blackboard. “I wish I knew why I am so captivated by her. I’ve only just met her.”

“Another life, perhaps,” Joan offered with a shrug and a soft tone. She turned to stand beside him against the board. “Another time. Ancient souls in love and locked together searching for each other.”

He snorted a laugh through his nose. “Whimsical nonsense,” he purred in reply with a turn of his head to face her. “Even for an English teacher…”

“I should take offence to that remark, as I certainly resemble it.” She sighed and dropped her hands to grip on the small ledge underneath the blackboard that held several broken sticks of chalk and a blackboard eraser. “But I dunno what else to tell you.”

“She’s married,” he breathed out with disappointment. “To a _Doctor_.”

“Hard to compete against that,” she admitted. “Best advice I can offer you is to go out, get a screw, and forget about her.” She looked down with a laugh. “And no, I’m not offering. I can only take so much rejection in a day.” She pushed herself from the wall. “But it’s a good suggestion nonetheless.”

“Nah,” he drawled. “Not really my thing.”

“Yeah, I know.” She thrust her hands into the pockets of her short jean skirt and shrugged. “First hand in fact.” She stopped when she caught sight of Steve and Mary standing at the doorway. “Oh hey,” she said by way of greeting. “Didn’t see you two there.”

Steve nodded slowly, his eyes a shade of curious darkness. “Did we interrupt something?”

Joan lifted her head and gave it a shake. “Nah. Just me and John breaking up.”

“You’d have to actually be together to actually break up,” Mary offered in a wistful tone. Her smile was one of a darkness that matched Steve’s eyes. “Why’d you two decide to call it quits before you even got started?”

“That’s none of your business,” John snapped.

Joan wasn’t quite as guarded. “He’s in love with someone else,” she said with a sigh. 

Steve tilted his head curiously. “And who is that?” He lifted his head and sniffed at the air, his attention heading out the doorway and onto the ground below. “Hello…”

Joan didn’t notice his inattention. “John’s got a hardon for Rose – Jack and Martha’s friend.”

“Does he now?” Steve asked with a grin as he slid his eyes back to Joan, and then to John. “Interesting that she’s only recently arrived.”

“Love at first sight, apparently.”

His inhale was through his nose and he purred as though smelling a fine meal. “Perhaps we should arrange to have the two of them locked together in a dark room for a long while.” He blinked slowly. “See what comes out … what comes of it.”

Mary agreed. “Can be arranged, John Smith. If you want.”

“Kidnapping isn’t my game,” he said with a shake in his head.

“No,” Steve breathed out. He caught sight of Rose walking an upset stalk across the grounds and flicked a look toward Mary. “But I’m not incredibly opposed to it, myself.”

John’s brow tightened. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?”

“Nothing,” he answered with a shrug. “But if you will excuse me, John and Joan. Mary and I have something we need to deal with.”

John shrugged. “Yeah. Sure. See you tomorrow.”

Mary gave him a smile. “Maybe we’ll see you a little later tonight instead. Wouldn’t mind catching up for a drink later.”

He shrugged. “Whatever. I’ll be home.”

Mary took Steve’s hand and led him outside the class. They stood on the balcony a moment, watching Rose walk across the grass with her wolf following protectively beside her. Both on=f them drew in a deep inhale, purring at the scent of Time that poured out of her.

“If his beloved is in peril,” Steve began.

“Then the Time Lord will emerge,’ Mary finished. She turned to him. “Let’s inform Mother and father that we’ve identified both Time Lord and Mate.”

“We’ll take them tonight…”


	47. Imprint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Martha get to know each other a little as she helps him pick out some clothes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strayed off topic on this one, but I quite liked it so it stays.
> 
> I always wanted to love Martha. RTD - as brilliant as he was - didn't always let me do that. Every time she would glisten and shine, that puppy love bug would bite and she'd topple off the pedestal. That isn't to say I didn't like her .. because I did ... I just wish that she'd been allowed to shuck off the instantly in love thing with the Doctor and be the brilliant woman that she should have been.
> 
> So that said: She deserves more. ... She needs a wee bit of the right attention....
> 
> No Rose and Doctor here, be forewarned. That stuff is coming next. But I wanted to play around in this sandpit for a chapter first.
> 
> I'm sorry if it seems like I'm sinking a ship here ... 
> 
> I really and truly hope you enjoy this snippet.
> 
> Time Lord fury of the Ten kind coming up shortly....

~~ooOOOooo~~

Three TARDISes, three very different interior layouts. 

That was pretty much the bulk of Martha’s thoughts when she stepped over the threshold into Tom’s ship. Her Doctor’s ship was like an underwater coral reef, brilliant oranges and greens, and an organic hum that waved over her much like a crashing wave above them. Rose’s Doctor’s TARDIS was like an elaborate turn of the century mansion, lit by soft flickeing candleflame with a hum more like the murmur of a theatre. Tom’s TARDIS? Well this one was all white and stainless steel. There was nothing relaxing nor homely about it – especially the large wall of guns at the North end of the craft.

“Oh my,” she breathed out with surprise, her hand lifting to cover her mouth. It had been her experience with the Doctor being that guns were not allowed on TARDIS ships.

Tom followed her into the ship, curling around where she had stopped to get to a walkway off the room. “What’s wrong?” he queried gently.

Martha’s eyes were wide and her head shook slowly. Her hand still covered her mouth as she trailed her eyes over some of the largest weapons she had ever seen. ‘Nothing,” she croaked out.

He caught the direction of her attention and looked that way himself. He worked out the source of her surprise and let out a soft breath. “The weaponry,” he deduced. “Yes, I can imagine that’s something you’re not used to seeing.”

“No,” she breathed out. “Not at all. The Doctor doesn’t like guns.”

“Neither do I,” he admitted with a shrug. “But sometimes they’re necessary.” He walked up to the wall and the weapons, which were held behind lavender-tinted glass, and pressed his hands against the clear wall. “This capsule is a battle capsule,” he advised gently. He looked upward to the domes ceiling with a smile. “He’s Type-90 model. He and I have been symbiotically linked for nearly three-hundred years – my first day at the Academy.”

“Are all type-90’s battle crafts?”

He shot her a smile of pride at the question, not unlike one that the Doctor would offer when the right question was asked. “Indeed they are, Beautiful,” he answered with a smile. “Specialised ships that are very specifically cultured back in the hyperloom. Their initial block transfer equations differ to those intended only for quiet travel through the vortex.” He exhaled long. “These ships are fully equipped for battle, and are designed for immediate and lethal response when a threat is encountered.”

“I see,” she said along an exhale. It wasn’t one of disappointment, nor one of full comprehension to everything that he said. Instead it was one of quiet attention, as a student listening to a lecturer at university. “I didn’t know there were so many types.”

“Oh, there are hundreds,” he clarified with wide eyes and a nod in his head. “All of them very different.”

“I’m beginning to see that,” she said with a nod of her head. Slowly she shifted her eyes from the weapons to move toward him. “You said you’re symbiotically linked? And have been since you were a child?”

“That’s correct,” he answered with a smile, curious to see where she would go with this.

“I’m guessing that your symbiosis is of a mutualism nature,” she mused more to herself than to him as she looked around a little more. “In that you both benefit from the relationship.” She looked at him. “taking strength from each other to combat your own weaknesses.” He lip curled up into a smile. “Not that I’m suggesting you’ve got any weaknesses at all.”

“Oh I do,” he said with a laugh. “Quite a few in fact, but yes, you’re correct. In flight and in battle, where I may falter, this old boy picks me up.”

“And vice versa,” she breathed out with definite awe in her words. Her eyes scanned the room and then shifted back to him, focusing on the stoic and proud nature of his posture – a real soldier. “I’m going to hazard a guess that when you were paired with this capsule, that your fate to become a soldier was set.”

He breathed out a long breath of understanding. He could see what she was inferring to with that question, and while yes, his fate was determined, it was not a fate determined by anyone other than himself and this handsome ship.

“Yes,” he began with a smile. “You could say that.”

“Do you have a choice in it?”

His head shook slowly. “Not really. Well. Well, yes, I did, but that would mean that I would have to reject a bond request…” He shrugged. “And I would never do that.”

“Okay,” she sighed. “Now you’ve lost me, I think.”

“Put simply,’ he said as his arms folded loosely across his chest and he slouched with his hip on the console. “This ship chose me out of my entire class to be his symbiotically linked pilot. Of all the other cadets – many of them born soldiers – he chose me: the smallest and least intimidating of them all. My destiny was more likely toward becoming a sooth or a matrician like other members of my chapter.” He looked up again. “But this fellow, I guess he saw that I must’ve had a little more oomph than my loom-cousins, and chose me as his pilot.” He looked back to Martha. “And so my life and the path for which I was set to embark on was instantly rerouted to something so much better.”

“And you’re happy with that?”

It wasn’t a question of incredulity. Nor was she trying to make him think he’d done wrong. It was an honest question looking for an honest answer. He tilted his head, smiled, and nodded. “Very much so,” he said. “I get to travel. I get excitement. I get to defend my home and all of her children. What could be better than that?”

“Nothing,” she agreed with a smile and a gentle, tender tone. “Nothing at all.”

“And better yet,” he added with a wink as he took a few steps toward her and tenderly gripped her chin in between his thumb and forefinger. “I get the chance to meet someone as beautiful and as amazing as you.”

“Smooth,” she said with a laugh as she gently pushed his hand down. “Remember, no sneaky Cerulean hands. Doctor’s orders.”

He rolled his eyes, light petulance washing over him. “I find it amusing that the Lord Doctor refers to my chapter as being sneaky with such obvious disdain. Particularly when it’s his chapter that are referred to as the sneaky ones. _Can’t take your eyes off a Prydonian_ ,” he called out. “Devious, and proud of it, the lot of them. Which explains why most of them move into politics.”

“And on that note,” Martha said uncomfortably, feeling his frustration. “Let’s change the subject.” She let out a huff and shook her head. “My mum always told me there are two subjects that shouldn’t be brought up between friends and family: Religion, and Politics. Something tells me that I may have hit both of them with the one swing.”

“I’m sorry,” he said with a light stoop in his back for apology. “There does tend to be some friction between chapters and their members. It wasn’t right of me to show that to you.”

Martha shrugged. “Nah,” she drawled. “No harm done. I’m actually thankful to have a little bit of insight into the people the Doctor came from.”

“Yep,” he said with a nod and then a wink in his eye. “Best you don’t think that all of us are like him. That Lord has quite a coloured history to him, that’s for sure. Settling down has done him some wonders, but he’s still got a ways to go until I could call him a delightful _travel_ companion.”

“I don’t know, he tends to get along with most species,” she said with a shrug. “Just not Time Lords, it seems.”

“That makes him a speciesist,” he teased with a breathy laugh. “Discriminating against Time Lords like that.” He flicked his hand and tipped his head to the corridor. “Come on, though. We best do what we needed to get done before the old boy send out a search party to find us.”

“But we’re only in the next TARDIS over,” she retorted with a laugh.

He hummed with a smile on his face. “Have you ever gotten lost in a Capsule? You can quite honestly get lost in here for days, weeks, and even months.” He held out his hand. “So for your safety, feel free to hold onto me as your guide. I’ll keep you safe.”

“How about I walk beside you instead,” she said with a laugh as she walked to his side and walked with her hands held loosely at her front.

“As you wish.” He pointed forward. “The Wardrobe is down here. The Lord Doctor suggested a change of clothing, so we best get to that part of things first. I’m quite glad that you’re here to assist, actually.” He rubbed at his neck, then pushed open the door to the wardrobe. “Because I really don’t know that my ship nor I could get it right.”

“I’m sure you’d have done fine,” she sang as she walked through the door head of him. She stopped and purred appreciatively at the dual storey size of the room, and all of the clothing, shoes, and accessories on offer. “Wow. A girl would kill for a wardrobe like this.”

“Leave the Doctor to travel with me,” he offered, “and you can have it. All of it.”

She spun as she walked, her eyes glancing around in awe. “I could almost be convinced.”

“I’m being genuine when I ask you that,” he said softly, sensing the facetiousness in her tone. “Have ship, will travel.”

“And have service responsibilities to Mother Gallifrey,” Martha reminded him with a smile. “You don’t seem to me to be the type to just up and shirk your duties.” She turned back to a rack of clothing and started to swipe her way through various outfits. “And besides, you don’t really know me well enough to make me an offer like _that_.”

He tilted his head curiously at her, watching the back of her head as she swiped from shirt to shirt on the rack. “How long did you know the Doctor before he made the same offer to you?” He watched her still at the question. “I imagine it was after a particularly exciting adventure, three, maybe four or five Earth hours?” He hummed. “Perhaps you managed to save his life in some way?”

She looked down her shoulder, supposedly to look at him, but not able to twist her neck that far around. “How did you…?”

“It’s his M.O.,” he said with a shrug. “It’s usually how he picks up a companion.” His eyes widened and he was quick to amend that. “Oh, it’s not always the way he finds them, of course. Sometimes they’re kidnapped by the TARDIS – accidentally, of course – and sometimes Companions force their way to him. But most of the time, it’s because a potential traveller is captured by the excitement and beauty of the moment and end up at his side.” 

She finally turned around. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Not at all,” he answered with a shrug. He walked to stand at her side and lifted his hand to run down the soft fabric of a silk shirt. “I’m not even suggesting that it makes you somehow less special than anyone else.”

Her eyes flashed. “I hadn’t even thought that,” she said slowly.

“And you really shouldn’t, Beautiful,” he continued with smile of appreciation as he looked up at the collar of a soft cream coloured silk shirt. “Because you are very special to the old man.”

She let out a breath. “You know, Tom. When you have to sell it that hard, you start to become very unbelievable.”

“Do you believe,” he asked. “That you are indeed special to the Doctor; that you’re unique and important to him?” He stepped closer to her, looking down into her eyes with a gaze both soft and fierce. “Does he make you feel that way, every day?”

She blinked at his question, not wanting to analyse any part of it too deeply. She did, however, lift her head with an almost arrogant upward tilt of challenge. “Are you saying that you will?”

“I am saying,” he replied slowly, pausing as he drew a shirt off the rack and held it up against his chest. “That I will make sure that you know every single day just how special you really are.” He smiled widely and turned side to side with the shirt held at his chest. “What about this shirt? Does it make my eyes sparkle, or my butt look small, or whatever it is that makes clothing so important to you humans?”

She pulled another shirt from the rack and held it to him. “this one’s much better. It’s hot out there, so cotton or linen is your best bet.”

His smile was grateful and he hummed a happy sound in the back of his throat that made her smile. “Wonderful,” he cheered as he set the shirt on a side table and quickly started to undo the buttons of the uniform shirt he was already wearing. 

Martha knew that she should look away from him as he pulled his shirt off to reveal a light blue undershirt embroidered with a looping symbol on the left breast. She found herself unable to look away, though, and as he didn’t seem to mind, there was little point in making a scene. Instead she walked the racks looking for a pair of trousers to match the shirt. She kept him firmly in the corner of her eye.

“Tell me something,” she said finally as she pulled a pair of linen trousers from the rack and analyzed them a moment. “We met for only a few minutes back when the Daleks attacked.” She held the trousers out to him. “How is it that you’re so…. Ehm…”

“Why I adore you as much as I do?” he completed when it appeared she wouldn’t be able to do so. At her nod he walked up behind her, speaking to her over her shoulder. “You cant see yourself like I do, so I understand your apprehension.”

She turned, gasping at his proximity. Her hands instinctively lifted to touch against his chest. One hand over each of his hearts. “H-How do you see me?”

“As the beautiful foundation of a magnificent tree,” he answered without further expanding on that.

She did wait for more, and frowned when he said nothing further. “What kind of tree?”

“A Tree of Time,” he answered with a smile. He looked up over her head. “And it is … breathtaking. Everything you were, are, and ever will be. Every choice that you can make. Every possibility.”

“That’s how you see?” she asked with almost a whimper in her voice. “Everyone?”

His eyes dropped to hers. “Only if I want to. Generally speaking, no. I ignore it. But when I see someone who truly peaks my interest, I take a peek.” He drew a finger around her ear to tuck away a wisp of hair. “When we met, I thought I was going to die without regenerating. I wanted to see timelines one more time, and it happened to be yours.” He smiled. “Then you saved my life, and I was …”

“You were what?” she asked with a lick at her lip. Only a small shift and their lips could meet…

…But did she want to…?

“Do you want to see?” he asked with a lift of his hand. His fingers wiggled just shy of her temple. “I can’t show you how you appear to me, but I can let you see who I am.”

She nodded eagerly. “Yes, sure!”

“I will warn you,” he cautioned firmly. “The imprinting that the Doctor is so firmly against will be a rather pleasant side effect – at least for me, anyway. I’m not sure that your species are capable of imprinting.”

“What does that mean?” she asked quickly, all of a sudden the desire to see him as he saw her becoming an urgency. “Is it dangerous?”

“Not dangerous at all,” he assured her with a gentle smile. “It just means that when we meet again in the future, no matter what incarnation I am in, you will recognise me, and know you can trust me.”

“What does it do for you?”

His fingertips traced along her jaw. “I will know that you’ll know me, and trust me.”

“Okay,” she breathed out. “Show me.”

“Are you sure? The Lord Doctor…”

“Isn’t the boss of me,” she interrupted. She took his hand and pressed his fingers to her temple. “Show me.”

He spoke a word that wasn’t translated by his TARDIS and then took a step backward from her. “Open your eyes,” he ordered her gently.

The swirling in her head and the warmth of him inside her head made her shake her head softly. “I don’t want to,” she admitted. “And lose this?”

“It gets better,” he assured her.

She opened her eyes to meet his and then continued up to look over his head. Her breath drew in deep with a gasp. “My God, Tom,” she breathed with awe at the shimmering web of light above him; paths travelled stood out brightly, whereas decisions not made were paths stopped short. It was, as he had told her it would be, magnificent to behold.

“All I was. All I am. And all I ever could be,” he said gently. Her eyes shifted to his and he gave her a smile. “So there I am laid bare for you, Martha. You can’t say you barely know me, anymore.” He let his finger fall from her temple, lightly severing the connection between them. “Now you can say you’ve known me all my life.”

Martha was shuddering as the connection between them petered out and she settled back to a single mind. What she had seen was indeed beautiful. Who she saw was beautiful as well. The emotion she’d felt … unparalleled.

Without giving him any fair warning except to say: “I’ll regret it if I don’t do this”, she clutched hard at the lapels of his shirt, rolled up onto her toes, and crushed her mouth against his.


	48. Capture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and her girl Tiallu spend some time in a park...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No animals were harmed in the writing of this chapter.... Any hurt you read is purely fictional.
> 
> Let me just throw this disclaimer in here. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: If you have a problem with an animal becoming injured in the course of performing a duty, then be forewarned before heading into this chapter, and don't head forward. Tiallu does not make it out of this chapter completely unscathed... But please remember, she's Gallifreyan, she'll be okay....
> 
> Quick one today... Had to get us to the next step toward the closure of this arc.
> 
> Again: Warning: Injured animal ahead. I can't stress that enough....
> 
> Don't hate me, please.

~~oooOOOooo~~

The thing that Rose Tyler had to admit about a Pilbara day is that night fell pretty damn quick. It honestly felt as though the sun fell faster in this part of the world than anywhere else. Five minutes ago, she was seated upon a swing in a small park watching a sunset that took her breath away. Five minutes ago she wiped a tear of awe from her eye and swooned at the wash of brilliant colours across the sky as the sun disappeared behind the mountains. Now, it was almost a pitch black sky. It was so dark that she could actually feel its weight upon the land; covering her, and everything around her, in a thick blanket of heavy warmth and darkness.

Gallifrey wasn’t like this at all. A Gallifrey night was a dark orange, almost brown, and rather than a heavy weight upon her, it was more a sense of ease, uplifting the pressure of the day to breathe easy at night.

The heavy silence was another thing as well. During the day here, the skies were filled with the raucous cries of cockatoos and galah birds in the sparsely planted trees around the town. Nothing at all pleasant about that, if she was being honest. Rather shrill and annoying, really, much like a pair of cats fighting in the streets in London … or the annoying screeches of the Tafelshrews int the grasses as they fought over a meal at the Magnolia orchard back on Gallifrey.

Any of the activities of the day in this little town were farily well extinguished by the cover of night, it seemed. There was zero sound, zero light, and zero movement at all – even through she was inside a park in the middle of town.

Perfect, really, for her to sit with nothing but her thoughts and a tired wolf as company. Tiallu, bless, she could sense Rose’s upset, and therefore remained a silent sentinel. This was a vast difference to her usual form of companionship, which was excited huffing and jumping around her looking for attention. Tonight, she merely snuffled around, sniffing at the grass and the air, and leaving her mistress to her own thoughts. Occasionally, the snuffled at Rose’s knee in a gentle askance of “Everything okay?” but other than that, she was content to just pad around or lie on the grass.

Rose was thankful for that as she lightly kicked her feet on the red gravel pit underneath the swing to lightly put herself in motion: forward and backward, and forward again. Occasionally, she’d have to stop her swing and readjust her seat. This swing was not designed with an adult woman in mind, and so the chain bracket did rather effectively bite into the soft malleable flesh of her hip, much more meaty since carrying and delivering a child for her husband – such were the sacrifices of having children.

The Doctor claimed not to mind at all that she did have a few more curves now since having Mark. He claimed that there was so much more to grasp onto when they made love and fooled around … That he loved it. He also loved each and every one of the cursed stretch marks that had appeared not only on her belly, but on her thighs and bum as well. So much so that he refused to remove them despite having the perfect means to do so. No. Instead he took time in kissing each and every one of them, all the while thanking them for his child.

It was remembrances like this that reminded her just how incredibly loved she was by the old fool. Oh, she knew beyond all doubt that the Doctor loved her with every fibre of his being. She didn’t question that at all. He gave her no reason at all to ever doubt it. He let her know constantly that she was loved, both by speaking the words, and with physical affections…

…Affections they hadn’t yet engaged in since reuniting this afternoon. Aside from a kiss, and the reaffirmation of their bond immediately after reuniting, they’d not touched each other at all. This should have given her a clue about his state of mind toward their relationship. The Doctor loved their physical relationship. He hungered it. He was quite frankly the initiator for pretty much all of their physical intimacy. For him not to have taken her into their room on the TARDIS the moment that Mark had gone down for a nap should have been telling.

Her brow creased in regret. She could have done the same; dragged him off somewhere to complete their connection in the most intimate of ways, but she didn’t. she was more concerned with making sure that they started work immediately on trying to trace the paths of the Family of Blood to try and protect the Human Doctor. She believed herself to be acting selflessly in that moment, but in reality she’d been quite selfish; more concerned about her own need to be heroic than his need to reconnect.

And both curse and bless him at the same time, he was more concerned with making sure she was happy. No wonder he was feeling insecure when she was more concerned for his elder self than she was with his panic at his family being missing. She’d pretty much thoroughly enjoyed being back out in the Universe’s wilds again, he had been back home stressing and panicking.

To add to that, two weeks for him versus three days for her. Right. Okay. She didn’t know that, but it was hardly an excuse.

“Oh Doctor,’ she breathed out softly in regret. “I’m so sorry.”

Below her, Tiallu lifted her head and gave a supportive whoomph. 

“I’m a horrible person aren’t I, Sweetheart?” she asked as she stepped off the swing and stooped to scratch the wolf behind her ears. “I didn’t even try to assure him, did I?”

No, she’d just gotten angry and defensive, completely offended at the suggestion that she may have taken off deliberately. Oh, but she had the right to be offended, but not so much sp that she should dismiss him so readily.

She walked and ran her hands through her hair, holding it off her face with a clutch tight enough for it to pull painfully at her scalp. She kept that hold firm and looked down toward her wolf, who had risen to her feet and was now doing an entire body shake into a stretch.

“We should go back,” she told her companion. “I need to make sure he knows that he’s my entire universe. Leave him no doubt about it.”

Rather than a whoomph of total agreement with her, Tiallu pulled back on her haunches and let out a low and threatening growl. Rose shifted quickly at her wolf’s warning. She moved to Tiallu’s side and spun to face the direction in which she was levering her threat.

“What’s wrong, girl?” she asked worriedly. 

Tiallu took a few careful steps forward, only enough to be able to step in front of Rose. She then fell low again and continued to growl.

Rose took note of the white shine in Tiallu’s fur flare into an almost luminous light blue colour. The fur over her shackles were high, almost straight up to attention. Intense worry immediately coursed throughout her body in response. Whatever had captured Tiallu’s wrath, it was something to be feared. She hadn’t seen her this threatening since the Daleks several years ago.

“Who-Who’s there?” she asked with as much courage as she could muster. Her eyes flicked to her left, and to the end of the street, the direction of where the TARDISes – and her Doctor – were waiting for her. “I’m warnin’ you, I-I’m not alone.”

Steve stepped out from the darkness. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he approached to give her a tut and a tsk. “Wow, Rose,” he said with a light laugh. “Timid little thing, aren’t you?”

Rose let out a long breath of relief to see that it was only him. “Sorry, Steve,” she laughed out. “City kid, remember. Always a little apprehensive when it’s dark out.” At her thigh, Tiallu continued to growl and snarl. She dropped her hand to scratch at her head and reassure her that she was safe. “Stand down,” she said softly. “He’s not a threat.”

Mary appeared behind Steve. Her eyes were gaunt and her gait uneasy. She leaned a hand against a steel-pipe structure that resembled a skeleton of a stage coach. Her eyes dropped to the wolf. “Not really the friendly sort, is she?”

“Protective,” Rose assured her. She dropped into a crouch beside the animal and tried to calm her worth soft words and pets. “I’m safe, Tiallu. Really. You know these people, we all went camping together, remember?”

Mary continued keeping her distance, seemingly needing to hold onto the structure to maintain her own balance. She looked toward Steve. “The animal will obviously make this difficult.”

Still in a crouch beside her wolf, Rose looked up quickly. “Make what difficult?”

Steve shot Mary a sharp glare, but softened that expression into friendliness when he looked back at Rose. “Nothing nefarious,” he answered with a shrug. “We were going to ask you to join us for a few drinks at John’s flat.” He looked at the wolf. “But she’s not invited.”

Rose’s eyes flashed briefly. Tiallu was still in a warning hunch. “Is the invitation extended toward Jack and Martha?” she asked with a narrowing of her eyes as guardedness moved in in response to Tiallu’s obvious warning.

Steve’s head tilted to one side. “No,” he drawled out carefully. “John was very specific that he wanted just you to drop by.”

“And the two of you,” Rose pointed out “Or did you want me to believe that he sent you guys to just come get me?”

“If you’re willing to believe that, then sure,” Steve said with a wide grin. “We’re your escort party.”

Tiallu’s continuing growls brought about worry and suspicion within her. Nothing about this seemed right at all. For her own sense of security Rose touched her hand to her wrist wanting to feel the gold band that the Doctor had given her, to give herself assurance that she was still safe from discovery and that she was hidden.

Dread filled her completely when she couldn’t feel it there. 

“You know what,” she managed out. “I have a child and a very protective husband waiting for me at home, and I really should get to them.”

“Curious,” Steve said darkly as he walked around her, careful to stay out of reach of the wolf that was walking around Rose to follow his movements. “That you are clearly the mate of a Time Lord – you absolutely reek of one - yet you have a human husband and child.” He hummed and looked toward Mary. “One-sided mating bond, perhaps?” He chuckled. “Not unheard of. When a Time Lord wishes to mate with a Human who can’t speak his language to reciprocate the bond request. He’s locked in tight with his essence wrapped around her, but she’s none the wiser to it.”

“Oh,’ Mary sang out. “That makes this even more delightful. Not only will it release the Time Lord, it’ll break him, too. Make him so much easier to handle.”

Rose’s brows creased tightly. This had gone from zero to one hundred in record time. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she ventured. “Time Lord? Mating bond? I don’t even know what where to start in how ridiculous that is.”

He leaned in and sniffed, exhaling with a shudder of pleasure toward her scent. “Oh, I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I’m beginnin’ to wonder if you do,” she snapped in reply. Her hand clutched tightly at Tiallu’s fur. “Whatever drugs you’re on, you might want to lower the dose a bit.” She needed to get a message to the Doctor, to Jack, to Martha, to anyone…

“So that said,” Steve said with a smirk. “You’ll need to come with us.”

“I don’t need to do anything,” she snarled in reply, trying hard for courage to rear up and keep her safe. “But you need to back of with being this creepy and sober up somewhere.” If she thought really really hard and begged for help, would the Doctor feel it across their bond?”

Mary pushed off the steel structure and rushed forward. There was a sneer in her lip as she pushed Steve off to one side and lurched forward to grab Rose. Tiallu lunged at her. With her sharp claws extended and a growl that shuddered Rose deep inside her soul, the wolf sank claws and teeth into the arm of their attacker.

Mary screamed as the Wolf’s attack tore the flesh from her arms.

“Tiallu!” Rose cried out with horror. She clutched at her fur in an attempt to pull her back. “Stop! That’s enough!” She looked down the street, wondering if she should run, get the Doctor, but no, she couldn’t leave her wolf – not when she was about to kill someone…

…even if they were quite likely a really very evil nefarious type of person.

The snarling, growling, and tearing of clothing continued on. She felt there was no longer a choice. She needed the Doctor’s intervention. She spun to launch into a run and collided heavily against Steve’s chest. She let out a yelp of surprise and fright as he fumbled to put his arms around and capture her. 

“Get away from me,” she yelled as she stumbled backward in an attempt to escape.

Immediately, Tiallu tore herself away from Mary and launched into a run toward Steve. She leapt high, her claws bared, and dove into his chest. She snarled a filthy growl through wide open jaws.

“Enough!” Steve yelled. He picked up a sharp jagged stick from the ground and sliced his arm through the air to strike heavily into the wolf’s shoulder. He snarled a smile at the sharp pained cry that burst out of the beast as she hit the ground.

Rose called out her wolf’s name in absolute horror and rushed forward to try and help her, but instead found herself captured in strong, bloody, female arms. Instinctively she called out to her Husband, desperately hoping he could hear.

The terrified call of the Doctor’s name lifted the wolf from where she lay. Despite having a thick stick hanging out of her shoulder, she limped into a launch again toward Steve. Her jaw was wide open and ready for attack. Her claws hit into Steve’s chest to throw them both backward onto the grass. Before Tiallu could snap her jaw around his throat, he opened his mouth and huffed out a cloud of green mist into her face. Instantly all of the fight within her evaporated, and the wolf fell off to one side, her eyes closed and her body still.

Rose’s fight flew from her as well, replaced by despair that her beloved wold had just been killed. She let her legs collapse, which dropped her from Mary’s grip, and crawled across the grasses toward her pet.

“No no no,” she peppered out with horror. “What did you do to her?” she asked in a quiet voice as she tired to reach out to her wolf. Her beautiful white girl, covered in bright red blood and lying still and silent. “You killed her,” she wept out quietly. She lifted her head to look at Steve. “You killed her!”

“Damn thing deserved it,” Steve snarled in reply as he wiped long strokes of his hands down his arms and walked toward Rose. He grabbed a firm hold of her shirt and hauled her to her feet. “And if you’d come along quietly, she’d still be alive.”

She looked at him through her brows with red rimmed, soaked eyes filled with anger. “You’re going to pay for that.”

He hummed and shrugged as he blew a breath of green into her face. He caught her as she fell, holding her only by her shoulder. “Gimme a hand, sister of mine,” he ordered sharply. “We’ve got to get her in place before we can collect the Time Lord.”

…

It wasn’t too long, maybe only a handful of minutes, before Tiallu was finally able to draw in a deep breath. Silence now surrounded her. She was unable to move. She stretched out her throat, held her jaw tight and exhaled her breath in a long, haunting howl.

~~oooOOOooo~~


	49. The Howl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor isn't in a really good mood right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chappies in a day! Haven't done this in a long while.
> 
> I even managed to do it while playing Monopoly with my lads... and win the game at the same time....
> 
> My son is very mad at me right now... all pouty and stuff.
> 
> I do hope that you enjoy this next offering. We're almost there (the end of this arc) now ... 
> 
> Thanks as always for your comments, they really do make my day.

~~oooOOOooo~~

The Doctor was seated on the jumpseat, with his child playing quietly on the floor below him, when Jack entered the TARDIS. He had red sparkling stiletto heels hanging from his fingers, and a sequined dress hanging off one arm. His wig was still on his head, though it wasn’t seated as professionally as it was earlier in the day. It looked to have been placed there only because he had a lack of hands to carry it properly. He gave the Doctor a winning megawatt grin as he strode up the ramp, his boots clanking quietly with each step.

“Hey, Doc,” he called out.

The Doctor didn’t look up from the contraption he was tinkering with, and he only acknowledged Jack with a grunt.

Jack paused just slightly and set the dress over one of the coral arms. He stooped to put the shoes on the floor, and pulled the wig from his head. “Non committal greeting spoken as a grunt,” he mused. “In a bad mood, then?”

“Not in any mood,” the Doctor corrected shortly, leaning to one side to retrieve a small screwdriver. “Just very busy right now.”

“Doing what?”

He lifted his eyes. “Building something,” he answered with a chip in his tone. “What does it look like?”

“Definitely in a bad mood,” he repeated with a sigh. He set the wig on a hat stand oddly located to the side of the console ramp. “Right. If you don’t want to be a decent individual and show at least some reception to my presence, can I ask where Rose is?”

“You can ask.” He put the screwdriver on the chair beside him and used his finger to tweak some wires.

Jack waited for the answer. When he got none from the Time Lord, he looked to Mark. “Hey little buddy, whatcha doin’?”

Mark looked up with a grin and blew his fringe from his face with a blow out the left side of his mouth. He held up a small train. “Just playing with a train,” he answered. He made a choo-choo sound as he drive it in the air. “Mama went for a walk,” he said, looking back down to the floor. He lifted his eyes upward with a frown. “A long time ago.” He looked to his father. “She was supposed to give me a bath, papa.”

“Your mother will be back soon,” the Doctor assured him gently. “She just needed to walk it off.”

Realisation hit Jack with that comment. “Oh, I see,” he purred with a smile. “The reason for your bad mood is now obvious. Have a row with the missus?”

“Whether or not my wife and I have had a disagreement is _our_ business,’ the Doctor chipped. “Now if you wouldn’t mind, I am quite busy right now, and don’t have time for general conversation.”

“When you decide to misdirect your frustration toward others, then yeah, it becomes our business,” he countered with annoyance. “I haven’t done anything to piss you off, so…”

He lifted his eyes. “Haven’t you?” He rested the contraption on his knees and looked at the man, now certainly dressed as one in a pair of dark trousers, white shirt, and suspenders. He could certainly see the appeal in a fellow like this. He was rather handsome in that perfect Ken-Doll kind of way. If this man didn’t make his skin crawl in the way that he was, he might actually take a moment to appreciate such perfection. He looked back down to his contraption and started to work on it again. “Why is it you make me feel incredibly uncomfortable, Jack?”

“Oh I see,” Jack said with an indignant sniff. He crouched down to retrieve a golden bracelet from the grating. He set it in his palm and analysed it closely. “You won’t answer my question, but you’ll expect me to answer yours.”

The Doctor shrugged. “My question is important.”

“And Rose’s whereabouts aren’t?”

“They are,” he breathed out. “To me it’s very much important.” He let out a sigh. “But I know she’s just taking a walk, as she usually does when we have a disagreement.”

Jack nodded. “I see. And it doesn’t concern you that she’s out alone, when there are aliens out to get her?”

“She’s with Tiallu,” the Doctor said with a sigh. “Who will come to her aid if necessary, which I don’t expect to happen. She’s wearing the bio-damper bangle that I picked up from the capitol.” He held up his wrist to show off the one he was wearing. “The Cerulean and I are both wearing the same. She won’t be detectable by any nefarious alien beings.”

Jack held up the bangle he’d found with two fingers. The clasp was clearly broken as it held in one piece only by the hinge. “I really hope you don’t mean this one,” he said gravely.

The Doctor looked to the golden rounded W hanging from Jack’s fingers. The tired expression he held suddenly sharpened into alarm. He moved off the jumpseat faster than he was able to set his contraption on the seat, and it fell to the grating with a loud clatter that startled the youngster on the floor beside it.

“Papa!”

“Sorry, Mark,” he cooed almost distractedly as he crossed the floor and took the bangle from Jack’s hand. “Rassilon,” he breathed out with worry. “It must’ve fallen off when she stormed out.” He turned and slid his hand into his hair through his fringe. There was concern in his voice as he clutched a fistful of the hair on the very top of his head. “She’s been gone for almost an hour,” he huffed out.

“And it’s dark out,” Jack advised him. “And when I say it’s dark out, Doctor, there’s no moon, so it’s pitch black out there.” He walked up to the Doctor. “Now is a really appropriate time for you to teach me one of those really good Galifreyan swears, Doctor.”

“Not while my son’s within earshot,” he breathed out, his hand still clutching at his hair. “How am I going to find her?” he muttered to himself. He paced and then dropped his hand and ran to the console. “Because of her bond with me, Rose has a very specific bio-signature. As this ship is older than mine, she’ll have Rose’s data from her time with me in her systems.” 

“The same way these fiends are tracking her, you mean?”

He shuddered. “The TARDIS search is more specific. The Family will be undertaking a more broad spectrum search criteria. Honestly, my Dahramas would have much better luck tracking her than they would.”

“You better hope so,” Jack warned him. “They’ve got an hour on you already.”

He shushed him with a loud hiss. “Don’t need the negativity right now.”

Jack walked around the console to stand at the opposite side to the Doctor. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“If you can tell me where he’s put the hyperspatial-mass detector is, that would be of a very great help.” He huffed. “I know that the future me knows the location of each and every function of this console – despite it being cobbled together – but I have very little clue as to what functions as what.”

“Fortunately,” Jack drawled with a smile as he walked around and flicked up a switch beside the Doctor’s thumb. “I know this machine as well as your future does. The Both of us work … well, used to work on it together.” He sighed. “When you were in your last form.”

“You’re not a current companion, then?” he asked as he moved through a few items on screen.

“No,” Jack answered with a sigh. “The Incarnation before the Human one, the one who first loved Rose.” He smiled. “Arse over head for her, he was.”

“I do know the feeling.”

“We got caught up against the Daleks,” he remembered with a wince. “On a space station above Earth.”

The Doctor shifted his eyes to him. “Are you about to regale me with the story of the Bad Wolf?”

Jack’s eyes lifted and he shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, so no. I’m not.” He blew out a breath. “But, I remember being up against a group of Daleks. I was sure I was going to die, I got shot by the Dalekand honestly, thought that I did. But then I woke up.” 

The Doctor gave him a stare of disbelief. The TARDIS was running through her scans right now, so he had a moment to give Jack his attention. “What do you mean, you woke up?”

“I mean it in exactly the way I said it,” Jack said with a shrug. “I got shot. I died. I woke up.” His lips pursed. “And I’ve been waking up from being dead ever since.”

“Ahhh,” the Doctor breathed. “You’re an immortal.”

“I’m human,” he corrected.

“Who happens to be immortal,” The Doctor added. 

“And I don’t know why that is,” Jack said with frustration. “One minute I’m mortal, capable of dying like all the rest, and then in a blink of an eye…” He made an expressive “woosh” sound. “I can’t die anymore. I want to know why.”

“And you never thought to ask?”

Jack shook his head. “When I woke up, you and Rose were already on your way. You abandoned me, Doctor. Left me behind. I don’t know why.”

The Doctor shrugged and looked back at the screen. “I expect the Doctor who is currently Human would have the answer to that question. I can’t help you with that at all.”

Both men turned their attention to the door as it flew open with a bang. The Doctor tried to hide his disappointment in seeing that it was Martha and the Cerulean rather than his wife. “Oh,” he muttered. “It’s just you.” He looked back at the monitor. “You certainly took your time.”

Tom wheeled in a large dolly stacked with boxes. “Yeah, well I had a lot to pick up.”

“And he had to pick out his new wardrobe,” Martha sang with a smile. She looked to Jack. “I did well, didn’t I? He _Humans_ very well I think.”

Jack lifted a brow, noting the way she stood that little bit closer to him. A smile tipped up the corner of his lips. “I don’t know, Martha. You tell me.” He lifted his head to an odd sound coming from outside. It was a high-noted sound, a ghostly howl of wind? “What’s that sound?” he asked with a flick of his eyes to Martha. “Is that a dingo?”

“Dingo’s aren’t native to this area,” the Doctor answered distractedly.

“Do they have wolves here?”

The Doctor flicked a look toward him. “No they don’t, why?”

“Because there’s one howling outside,” Martha said to him with a flick of her finger over her shoulder.

The Doctor’s face fell. He ran to the doorway, lifting his head as though it would improve his hearing. Almost immediately he heard the soulful haunting call of his female Dahrama. “That’s Tiallu,” he said worriedly. He looked to his child and held out his hand. “Mark. I know this puts my parenting skills into question, but I need you to come with me.” He looked to Martha. “Unless one of you can stay with him?”

All three of them shook their heads, but Tom answered in the affirmative. “I will stay with the child,” he offered. “As his and Rose’s protection are my primary objective, it’s my duty.”

“Protect him with your life, Cerulean,” the Doctor called out as he ran through the doors of his TARDIS. “Jack, Martha. With me.”

The trio ran out into the shed, and then burst out into the Pilbara night. Tiallu’s voice ghosted across the landscape, twisting and turning, and giving the Doctor no idea at all about how to find her. 

Martha turned left, and then right, and then in a full circle. “I can’t tell which direction that’s coming from.”

Jack shook his head. “Neither can I, Mar. God, she could be anywhere.”

The Doctor lifted his head and let out a long call. A howl similar to the one sent by Tiallu. He stood in place, listening to the acoustics of the area to determine the shift of the breeze to determine possible sonar location points. There was a return call to his howl, and this time, the Doctor seemed to know exactly which direction to run. He waved his hand as he ducked and ran through a large hole in the cyclone link fence. “Come on you two. She’s this way.”

Jack and Martha shared a look, but the didn’t argue. Jack let Martha lead the two of them through the fence, and quickly they caught up with the Doctor, who’s attention was most definitely on the sound of his beloved wolf. He paused, and his head flicked left and then right in a very robotic manner. Then he took off along a road, not bothering to tell either of his companions to follow.

“We’re getting closer,” Martha panted out to Jack as they ran down along a dark and quiet street. “I can make sense of the sound now.”

Jack nodded, but said nothing. He was more concerned abut the pain he heard in that howl than where it was coming from. If that animal was hurt and forlornly calling out to the Doctor, then that meant something had happened to Rose…

…and if this Doctor was anything like the version he used to travel with, then this was going to go so sensationally sideways. He knew he should try and stop the man, try to prepare him for what he may run into, but he knew it was no use. The man was on his way, and nothing was gong to stop him,

All he could do was make sure that he was there to catch the man if he had to fall, or stop him if he was going to explode and try to destroy all of reality.

They all burst into the parketts. Jack paused at the gate, spinning to stand guard, just in case. He knew that Marth would follow the Doctor, who would run immediately toward the pained animal. God, he hoped it was just the animal in pain and not Rose.

The Doctor bolted across the grass and toward a steel-pipe structure. He saw the luminous blue-white fur of his female wold and fell to his knees at her side. He choked at her condition; covered in blood and severely injured. Her howls shifted to pained whimpers when he cupped her head and looked into her eyes. 

“Hello Darling,” he cooed with a shaking voice. “What have you done to yourself?” He looked around, noting with horror, but without surprise, that Rose was nowhere to be seen. He shook his head as the wold whimpered apologetically.

“No, no,” he said gently, shaking out his hand at his side hoping to trigger a small amount of regeneration energy. “You did the best you could. I know you did, Taillu.”

Martha fell to her knees at his side. “Oh my God, Doctor…”

“She’ll be okay,” he assured her as his hand lit up gold. He half cheered as he stretched out his fingers and then looked down to his wolf. “I’m going to warn you, girl. This might tingle a little bit.” He grit his teeth as he pressed down around the stick hanging out of her shoulder and let the regeneration energies curl around it. He held it firm for a moment, and then gave an almighty tug. The wolf cried, and he let out a yell of exertion.

And the wolf fell silent, a panting unconscious heap on the grass.

“Where’s Rose?” Martha asked with worry.

“I don’t know,” the Doctor ground out through his teeth.

“They’ve got her, haven’t they?”

He nodded his head and scooped his arms underneath the wolf. With a grunt he hauled her up against his chest. “I’ll find her,” he muttered darkly with a slow stride toward the fence and to where Jack stood on guard. 

“Are you sure?” she asked with concern.

“I tracked her across all time and space, Martha,” he muttered in reply. “I think I can find her in an area not much larger than my own orchard back on Gallifrey.”

Jack looked at the state of the wolf with a horrified grimace. “She okay?”

“She will be,’ the Doctor answered brusquely. “She took a beating, but I think she may also have been poisoned. Inhalation, but the looks of it.”

“How do you know?” he asked.

“I can smell it on her,” he replied. He then grinned. “Which might work well in our favour.”

“How does that work for us? The TARDIS isn’t able to analyse a smell as to use in her scanning sensors.”

“No,” the Doctor agreed. “But a Dahrama’s nose is just as good a tracer as any TARDIS scanning system.” His face fell and hardened. “I just need to put a call in to my brother to send across my male.” He blew out a long breath. “Together, we’ll locate Rose and the mongrels that took her, and I’ll kill them. All of them. Nice and slow.”

“I’ll help,” Jack offered.

Martha frowned and shook her head. “But Doctor,” she started. “The Doctor, I mean that Doctor, the one who’s Human….”

“Is an idiot,” the Doctor said with a growl. “An absolute idot who should have known better what he was hiding from. I don’t care what reason he had for hiding away from them like a coward. Those people, they’ve got my mate, my wife, the mother of my child and the holder of my hearts. That trumps any reason at all he may have had.” He continued to walk. “And to be frank with you, Martha, I don’t think he’d disagree.”


	50. Haulpak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose finds herself in a predicament

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing to say today .... nothing to say at all .... I don't want to watch the news anymore.....
> 
> Stay safe and stay well.
> 
> Thanks a tonne for your comments as always!

~~oooOOOooo~~

It was an unfamiliar hum and acrid scent that roused Rose from unconsciousness. It was more of a static buzz than an actual hum, not as organic as the gentle hum of the TARDIS at the edge of her mind. The scent was of grease, rust, hot cement, and dirty oil – kind of like the garage where Mickey worked.

She blew out her breath with that realisation and, suddenly wondering if her entire life to now was simply a vivid dream and she was in fact in London, still a shop worker with a mechanic boyfriend, she opened her eyes and gasped.

Yellow. That was the first thing that registered in her murky and swimming mind. She was surrounded by filthy yellow steel covered in red dust and black grease. Her eyes pinched as she tried to focus and to remember what had brought her here … and just exactly where _here_ was.

Where here was, she deduced, was not at ground level. Something insider her, internal equilibrium or something, suggested that she was up high somewhere. Up high, alone…

…And tired up, apparently.

Why she hadn’t immediately realised that she was bound and tethered was alarming in itself, and so she tried wriggling her fingers and toes to figure out if she could move. Slowly and surely, she felt the pins and needles tingle of slowly returning sensations. 

What the hell had she been hit with?

Oh, but the ties were becoming uncomfortably tight. As her cognizance grew, the feeling of thick hessian ropes roughly biting at her wrists, and the uncomfortable wet and sticky feel of tape across her mouth and cheeks began to become more prominent in her awareness. Fortunately, her wrists were tied to the front ofher. Her upper arms were secured tightly against her body, but her forearms had freedom. This gave her at least a little freedom to push her bangs from her face and wipe at her eyes. It also gave her the chance to pull at the tape over her mouth, when she got her cheeks free with a grunt of pain at the hard pull of adhesive against the peach-fuzz hair on her skin. She gasped in as deep a breath as she could with the ties around her chest that held her to a steel railing pole. It was enough, though, and much better than she could pull from a breath through a half-blocked nose.

She struggled against the ropes, testing to see just how much room she had to move. She rolled her shoulders hoping to be able to wriggle the ropes at least a little lower than they were on her shoulders, but to no avail. They were too tightly wrapped to offer too much in the way of shifting. She grit her teeth against the scrape of hessian against her bare arms to give it a much more concentrated effort. She could feel it graze at her skin, no doubt leaving raw angry marks in their wake. No real mind on that, she decided, a few scrapes was better to have to bear than death would be…

…And she had no doubt at all that the final outcome of this would be death. She wouldn’t let that happen without a damn decent fight. She had a life to avenge before she’d let them take hers.

Tiallu. Her beloved companion. Cruelly and mercilessly murdered by these revolting cretins, and for what? For trying to protect her? She didn’t deserve that. 

A thick tear tumbled out of her eye, falling fast down her cheek and over her lip. She tasted the tear as her mouth opened to a gasp as she tried to breathe without sobbing. Her last image of her beautiful girl would always be of her beautiful blue-white fur being covered in blood, whimpering in pain and still trying to protect and defend her.

And the Doctor. Would he find their precious wolf? Did he know she was in danger right now; or did he think she was simply still walking off their argument? He’d have to figure out soon enough that something was wrong. Walking it off usually only took an hour or so before he’d head out to find her so they could make up, apologise, and spend the rest of the day or night in each other’s arms – him buried deep insider her, she wrapped so tightly around him.

How long had it been already? Was he already on the hunt?

God, she hoped so.

She heard the rhythmic clank of boots atop grating, the sound of someone climbing a set of steel grate stairs, and her breath held. Although the room was lit by humming fluourescent lights, there were still plenty of dark nooks and crannies around her for the nefarious sorts to lurk ad hide in.

She considered calling out for whomever was lurking around to identify themselves, or to call out for help, but neither of these options seemed worth the waste of energy. Bad guys very rarely hid their victims in an area where there were passersby that could hear a plea for help. Instead, she kept her eyes toward the top of what she believed was a stairwell to her position. It didn’t take too long for the weathered face of an older man to appear at the top of the stairs. She held her breath and waited for him to make his approach.

“Look who’s awake,” he purred as he made it to the top and walked across the diamond plate steel platform toward her. He lowered into a crouch and clicked his tongue as he cupped her chin in his hand with a hard squeeze of his thumb and forefinger. He held it firm as she tried to pull out of his grip. “I wouldn’t struggle if I were you,” he warned with a chuckle. “You’ll only end up dying exhausted.”

“What do you want from me?” she asked through gritted teeth.

He moved in close to her, maintaining his painful hold of her face. He spoke his answer in a whisper across her cheek toward her ear. “I want the Time Lord.”

“What’s a Time Lord?” she answered back petulantly, hoping that _maybe_ by pleading ignorance, she could convince him she wasn’t who he thought she was. “Never head of one of them.”

He tutted with a shake of his head. “You know exactly what a Time Lord is,” he corrected her. “Being that you’re mated to one.”

She puckered her lips, an easy task to do with her cheeks being squeezed in the maker that they were. She made a show of thinking about that. After a second she let her eyes shift to his. “Nope, not mated to anything or anyone. I’m married, though, but to a Human, not a Time King or whatever…”

“Time _Lord_ ,” he sneered. “And don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.” He sniffed deeply, shuddering with a lick in his lip. “I can smell him on you.” He exhaled through an open mouth against her cheek. “So delicious.”

She shuddered uncomfortably. “Ahhh,” she breathed out. “I get it. You’re a perve.” She sniffed deeply. “Well. Don’t think I’ll be givin’ anything to ya. You’re really not my type, and besides, I’m married.”

He chuckled breathily, and released her jaw to stroke the backs of his fingers down her face. “Oh you can be assured that you’re not my type, either.”

“But apparently Time Lords or whatever are,” she snarled in reply, shifting her jaw to stretch it after being held. “Not that I want to judge or anythin’, because hey, what floats your boat is your business. Dunno how this involves me, though.”

“You’re the one who will bring him to me,” he answered with a wink and a sneer. “Best way to track a Time Lord is to capture his mate. Unfeeling lot for the most part, these Time Lords, don’t much care for anyone other than themselves.” He smirked. “Until they find their mate. Then they are so pitifully devoted to them that they’ll give up all of their lives to save them.”

Her brows lifted. “ _All_ of their lives? What are they? _Cats_?”

He grabbed at her jaw again, this time holding her heard enough that it would definitely leave bruising. “Don’t keep pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about,” he snarled in a low dangerous tone. “You are the mate of the Time Lord we’re searching for. He will come for you, and we _will_ kill him.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” she growled. “As I’ve already said: I have a husband…”

“Who doesn’t seem to be with you or your child,” he snapped, squeezing hard enough at her jaw that she felt a tingle in her tendons. “Do you think it wouldn’t be noticed, Rose, that you’re here with child, but not with your husband?”

“He’s travellin’,” Rose struggled to say with hew jaw being so tightly held. “He’s a Doctor. He travels a lot.”

“If that’s really true,” he warned darkly. “And that you are as useless to me as you claim you are – then what reason do I have to keep you alive?” His head tilted to one side. “My daughter needs a new form, the one she has is basically torn apart and not likely to heal.” He huffed and shook his head. “Gravely inured the moment she took that form, foolish girl.” He moved forward to snarl against her cheek. “Perhaps you’re better as a vessel to carry her.”

Her breath caught deep. “I’m warnin’ ya,” she hissed out through pain more than threat. “My husband, he’s not someone you wanna mess with. If you hurt me, he’ll hunt you to the ends of the Universe.”

He laughed as he finally released her jaw, smirking at the whimper she gave when she was finally able to work her jaw and drop her head. “I’m counting on it,” he said victoriously. “Although, we’re really not making him look all that far for us. We’re right here.”

Her eyes were dark as she slowly lifted her head. “And so is he,” she warned him. “And in enough of a foul mood that I doubt he’ll have any form of mercy for you.” She smirked. “You really don’t know how big a mistake you’re making right now.”

“The only mistake made, my foolish girl, was him leaving you all alone where we could find you,” he snorted. “With nothing but a pathetic animal to protect you. Such a shame she couldn’t handle herself around my son.”

At that, Rose tried to lunge forward, tugging against her binds with a snarl. “You’ll be sorry you hurt her,” she growled. “She was an innocent animal only protecting me.”

“And such was her downfall,” he replied with faux feeling. “She should have protected herself,” his lips curled. “Not her pathetic mistress.”

“If I get out of here,” she warned with a growl. “Or if the Doctor finds you, you’d better watch out.”

A chuckle rumbled deep inside his chest. “The Doctor,” he sang out on a low tone. “Is that the one we’ve found?” He started to laugh, his head rolling back. “Oh brilliant! Not only do we get our Time Lord feast, and live forever, we will have the respect of the entire universe for bringing down the Doctor himself!”

“Entire armies haven’t been able to stop him,” she growled out, tired of the pretense. “What makes you think _you_ can defeat him?”

He moved close to her, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Because I have you,” he replied with humour. “Because I have his mate, the woman his hearts beat for.”

“Which will only make him more dangerous,” she managed meekly after a swallow. “Because if I fall, he catches me. Every single time.”

He hummed a laugh. “Well you had better hope you’re right.” He looked over the edge of the railing behind her. “When I push you over, it’s a fall of almost 25 feet onto solid concrete. Head-first? You’ll die.”

“Or at least have a really bad headache,” she mused to herself with a wince.

He laughed. “You won’t survive it,” he said to her. “I’ll make sure of it.” He chuckled. “A distraught Time Lord is much easier to handle than one who thinks he has hope.”

She blinked. “You’d better hope so. In my experience I’ve found that a distraught Time Lord is much less controllable than one who has hope.”

There was a clamour down below, the sound of people walking into what Rose assumed was a large shed. The man looked down with a smile. “Well. Let’s find out, shall we?”

Rose turned her head as best she could to try and look over the edge of whatever machine she was on. It took a decent levering of her head atop her neck, a painful effort of twisting and stretching the tendons of her neck, but she could see movement below. She saw Steve walk in, alongside John, who looked uncomfortable, but not necessarily in any peril.

“I don’t know why you and Mary were playing about up here,” John said in a voice both annoyance and worry. “And why you chose to bring me here instead of calling for an ambulance.”

“Volunteer service,” Steve answered with a forced huff. “And they’re off looking after someone else. You seem to know what you’re doing, figure you can help out till they get here.”

“Yeah, sure,” he muttered as he rubbed the back of his head. “Though I’m not sure what much help I’m going to be. You’re covered in an awful lot of blood.”

“Not mine.”

“No,” he breathed out. “Which is what worries me.”

Rose’s face creased into a wince, and she spoke the man’s name inside a worried breath. At her side, the man who held her chuckled deeply. “So I see we chose correctly.”

Rose flicked her head to him. She deliberately kept her voice quiet so as not to be heard. “No. You’ve got the wrong man. John, he’s innocent. He isn’t my husband.”

“Not in his current form he isn’t,” the man agreed. “Not as a Human.”

“No,” she corrected urgently. ‘I mean not at all. This man is not my husband – you have the wrong man.”

He hummed with a mile. “Well then, I guess that mean’s he’s no good to me, either, is he?” He let out a fax disappointed huff. “I guess I’ll just have to order him killed as well.”

“No!” she gasped. “You can’t.”

He looked down at her. “Yes. Yes I can, actually.” He leaned down to her. “So you’d better tell me, Rose. Is he the Time Lord in hiding; or just a plain ordinary Human who shouldn’t be left alive, anyway?”

“Please don’t do this,” she pleaded softly. “Please?”

“If I don’t,” he answered her simply. “Then my family and I will die.”

“Father of Mine!” Steve called from down below. “Are you up there?”

He stood up and leaned his arm on the railing to look down at his child. “Up here, Son of Mine.”

Steve grinned as he looked upward. He put a hand on John’s back, clothing a fistful of his shirt at the base of his neck. “Look who I brought along.” He gave John a shove, who yelped in surprise as he stumbled forward.

“Steve. What the Hell?” he said with a yelp.

“Oh shut up,” Steve said with an irritated growl as he shoved him again. “I’ve really had about enough of you.”

John frowned with confusion, looking over his shoulder as he stumbled forward. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I wonder if you’re as annoying as a Time Lord as you are a Human.”

Now John stumbled all on his own. He turned to walk sideways, and rolled awkwardly on his foot. He fell with a grunt into his hip against the hard concrete floor below. ‘What are you talking about?”

“You,” he accused with a point of his finger. “Pretending to be human.”

John didn’t get up. He was too dumfounded to even think about getting up. His face contorted into an expression of absolute incredulity and disbelief. “I’ll ask again: What are you talking about?”

Steve leaned back and loudly breathed out a groan of annoyance. “Ugh. A Human brain, so thick and dull, and very very boring.”

“Dull, and boring mean pretty much the same thing,” John gruffed out petulantly. “And quite frankly, Steve, as a Physics teacher, I’m going to say that my brain is far less thick and dull than a Phys-ed teacher’s mind.”

Steve flashed him a glare. He held up a gun. He held it high and slightly moved it around, left and right, and then pointed it in his direction. “Have you had fun, John Smith,” he said with distaste, “being Human? What did you learn about that insignificant species?”

John’s eyes pinched. “What _are_ you talking about?”

He leaned down. “Come out, Time Lord.” He clicked his tongue like someone might call an animal. “Come out come out wherever you are.”

John rolled his eyes and drew himself to a stand. He pointed his finger at Steve and turned as though to leave. “You’re an idiot,” he growled. “And I’m not playing your game.”

A large woman stepped out of the shadow behind Steve. “This isn’t a game, Time Lord.”

John’s eyes flicked into her direction. “I’m not a Time-Whatever,” he corrected. His eyes flashed wide to see that his woman supported Mary, who looked as though she was hovering close to death’s door. She was covered in ripped flesh and blood. Already it appeared she’d been swarmed by the local fly population. There were black swarming creatures walking all over the gruesome wounds. He felt as though he would retch on the spot, but was able to control his gag reflex by turning back to Steve. “What happened to her?”

“Wolf attack,” he answered with a shrug. “She will be fine.”

“She won’t be,” he corrected. “She needs to go to hospital.”

“A taste of Time Lord, and she’ll be fine,” he said with a smile. “One little taste and she’ll heal almost instantly, a regeneration if you will.”

John’s eyes were wide with horror. He shook his head slowly. “I’m not entirely sure that you know what you’re talking abut, Steve.” He looked back at Mary with an expression of utter disgust. “I don’t know that anything will heal her in several months, let alone instantly.”

“The power of the Time Lord,” Steve said with a sniff and a shudder. 

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?” He growled again. 

“You are a Time Lord,” Steve demanded with wide eyes of anger and frustration. “There’s no use to keep hiding. We found you.” He leaned in. “Tag, you’re it!”

“I’m Human,” John corrected him. “Born on Earth, raised on Earth, just like you, like Mary, like … like whoever that lady is,” he said with a flippant wave toward Mother.

“My mother,” Steve advised with a sneer. “Have some respect.”

“Hard to have it,” John huffed. “When you’re raving on like an idiot.”

Steve huffed and look upward. “Father of Mine,” he called out. “Time to bring out his mate…”

“My _what_?”

“Your _mate_ ,” Steve clarified as he pointed up to the cab of a three-tonne haulpak truck. “Rose Tyler. You remember her, don’t you? Your beloved one, your _mate_.”

John’s head lifted high. His eyes were wide with horror. “Rose?”

Father of Mine undid her ties only enough that he was able to untether her from the pole that held her secure. He laughed against her hair as he hauled her to her feet and led her toward the edge of the platform beside the truck’s cab, three storeys from the hard concrete below. Weakened from being inactive for such a long period, Rose needed his help to remain on her feet, and so when he pushed her forward, she stumbled and whimpered.

John’s expression was one of horror. Rose was bound by ropes from her shoulders down to her elbows, her hands were tied together in front of her. He could see the bruising of her jaw. 

…His eye twitched. A dimple appeared in his cheek as his teeth ground together.

“Oh look,” Father of Mine said with a laugh. “He knows who she is, doesn’t he? Not just a friend, is she, Time Lord.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” John seethed out, frustration and annoyance now being replaced by sheer fury.

“John,” Rose called down to him. “You need to get out of here. Please, John. Run.” 

His head slowly began to tilt to one side. Low. His shoulders stiffened and set back to straighten him up.

Steve laughed. “Oh he already ran,” he called back up to her. “Hid like a coward. “But we found him, didn’t we?”

“Leave her alone,” John warned quietly.

“Come out and play, Time Lord, and maybe we will,” he taunted. 

His eyes hardened. “I am not a Time Lord.”  
  


Rose still urgently warned him to run. “You heard me, John,” she yelled. “Run!”

“Run,” he breathed out long. “One word,” he said as he lifted his head to look toward her with all of the fierceness of his Ninth self. “Just one…”

Father of Mine growled with frustration. “Oh for the love of … I’ve had enough of this.” He gave Rose a shove in the back. “You won’t come out voluntarily, so how about we force it.” He grinned as he released his hold on the rope and let her fall off the edge of the platform.

As her feet struggled and then fell from the platform to have her fall fast to the concrete below, Rose cried out loud to her husband in a long and desperate cry.

“Doctor!”


	51. Catch Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catch me I'm falling ....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the cliffhanger yesterday ... Things about cliffhangers and me, is that if you get one it's because I ran out of time and had to cut myself off somewhat abruptly... 
> 
> This chapter doesn't exactly seem to move things along much. Maybe about five minutes or so.... Buuuuuut, it's all I had time for today.
> 
> And on a funny note: Did you know there is this thing called the Splat Calculator? Yeah SPLAT calculator ... love it. I happened to stumble on it after a google search to find out just how fast a body might fall... 
> 
> Heh. Anyhoooooo .... I'm very rusty on old Ten, and so I hope I kind've got him a little bit right. I know I wrote a tonne, but I also removed just as much... I hope I kept the right parts.
> 
> As always, thank you all so much for your comments! They are a great inspiration and let me know that you're still with me!

~~oooOOOooo~~

The Eighth Doctor’s TARDIS was silent, aside from the gentle hum of the machine, when the group arrived back at what they were terming “Home Base”.

Tom was seated on the armchair, with a napping four year old sprawled across his lap. Atop the youngsters hip, he supported a Gallifreyan tome. A novel, the Doctor noted, that was a translation to H.G. Wells’ The Time Machine. Fitting, he mused to himself, as he strode across the floor and gently laid his precious furry bundle on a rug on the floor. He then walked toward the armchair and gently picked up his child from the soldier’s lap.

“An interesting tale,” he said quietly. “Albeit it fantastic and unrealistic.”

Tom moaned softly at being able to move, and set the book aside as he drew himself to a stand. “Escapism,” he agreed. “If one can ignore the inaccuracies.”

“Suspension of belief,” he offered. “As is the purpose of fiction.”

“Indeed.” He stretched and looked toward the rug with a pinch in his eye and a curl of unease in his lip. “Your Dahrama, is she alright?”

“She will be,” he said along a breath. “In time.”

He looked at the group, noticing with horror that they were missing a member. His head flicked to the Doctor, his eyes full of worry. “And Rose?”

“Taken,” he answered shortly. “We were too late.”

Tom let out a Gallifreyan swear that the TARDIS refused to translate and scratched at his hair. “We will have to notify the Cardinal. He can arrange a search party.”

The Doctor shook his head. “We have enough Time Lords and TARDISes here already. I really don’t want to alarm the residents of this town by having an entire search squad materialise.” He pointed at the soldier’s hip, and his empty holster – his weapon on the coffee table beside the chair. “With guns and brute force. Now if you will, please secure that weapon before my son wakes up and decides to play with it.”

Tom gave a nod and did as asked. He looked toward Martha, who looked quite visibly shaken. “Beautiful, are you okay?”

She bit at her lip and shook her head. Right now, she was tucked in to Jack’s side, his arm over her shoulder in a supportive manner. Her hands were held tightly underneath her chin. She looked to the Doctor, who held his son tightly against him and lightly swayed. “How long until your brother arrives?”

“Not long,” he cooed gently, using a voice that wouldn’t rouse his child. “He has to retrieve Soliarn and secure him first.” He inhaled deeply enough that it lifted his lip. “I knew I should have brought him along with me. Why didn’t I bring him along?”

“Because I said: _not in my Capsule_ ,” Tom said with a sniff. 

The Doctor’s eyes flicked sharply toward him. “I should have pushed for it,” he huffed. 

“Coulda, shoulda, woulda, but you didn’t,” Jack muttered. “No sense in dwelling on what you didn’t do. We have to worry about what we need to do now to get Rose back.”

A howling wheeze seemed to answer to Jack’s command, and in a second a flickering image of a cylindrical capsule began to materialise into their reality. The Doctor stood close to the landing point in impatient wait for the materialisation to complete. He huffed and sniffed with each pulsing whine, becoming more agitated as the seconds wore on.

“Oh do hurry up,” he muttered finally.

“In its own time,” Tom warned him. “That one’s a 70, it’s a little more cautious than most when materialising.”

There was a shrill cry that seemed to fall in from another dimension, and then the machine became silent. There was no attempt by the capsule to blend in and change her form. Inside less than five seconds, the doors opened, and Braxiatel stepped out. Beside him, the male Dahrama, Soliarn, tethered by a thick leather leash walked with a cautious lift of it’s head to sniff the air.

“Brax,’ the Doctor greeted with what sounded like relief in his voice.

“Thete,” he answered somewhat flatly. He readied to expand upon that, but instead let out an undignified yelp as Solairn launched into a run, tugged hard on the leash, and pulled the Time Lord forward. He had no choice but to release the animal. “By the Curse of the Pythians,” he managed out. “What’s gotten him all…” His eyes widened at the still furry body lying on the rug. “Oh no.”

The Doctor winced as the wolf bolted along the floor, dragging the strip of leather behind him, to get to his mate. His breaths escaped him as whimpers and worried huffs as he dropped down onto his hunches at her side and nuzzled at her face.

“She’ll be okay,” the Doctor assured him. In his arms, his son was beginning to stir, and he juggled him slightly. “Hello sleepyhead.”

Mark rubbed at his eyes and yawned. “Papa. Did you find mama?”

“Not yet,” he breathed out with disappointment. “But we’ll find her soon.” He looked to his brother. “Can I ask you to take him back with you to Gallifrey?” He winced a little as he set Mark’s feet on the ground. “I’d really prefer that he was as far from here as possible over the next while.”

“No need for you to ask,” Brax assured him with a nod of his head. He held out his hand to the boy. “I was going to insist upon it.” He wriggled his fingers to the young lad. “Come now, young Time Child. Auntie Romana is waiting for you back at Arcadia. She wishes to accompany you to the zoo.”

Mark’s eyes flashed excitedly. He looked to his father with a jump in his step. “Papa, please? Oh pleasepleasepleaseplease.”

He gave him a nod and crouched down with his arms open for a hug. “Be a good boy for your uncle. Your mother and I will see you soon.” He held the youngster against his chest. “You are in my hearts, Mark. Remember that.”

“And you are in mine,” he answered with a quick kiss at his cheek. “Can I ask Aunty Romana to buy me a present?”

“No you cannot.”

Braxiatel chuckled. “He won’t need to ask, Thete. Romana will probably just go ahead and buy him one anyway.” He sighed and shook his head. “Like she always does.” He petted Mark’s head. “Now in you go, young Time Child. I have to have a quick word with your father and then we can be off. Be a dear and please don’t touch anything.”

Mark squealed and skipped, and then disappeared into the capsule. He popped his head out, only to wave at the others and say a quick goodbye, before he was gone again.

The Doctor looked pained. “Sometimes I think Mark prefers excursions with Romana than he does hanging about with Rose and me.”

“Probably because she spoils him rotten,” Braxiatel said with a shrug. “The young ones do tend to favour those who buy them pretty things.” He dipped his hands into his trouser pockets and walked across the floor toward where the female wolf lay. His face creased at the sight of her, and of her mate whimpering at her side. “I smell Lindos,” he remarked with a look toward his brother. “You used regeneration energy to keep her alive?”

The Doctor nodded. “I figured I had some to spare,” he said with a shrug. “She got hurt trying to protect Rose. She’s more than worth sparing some Lindos for.”

“Indeed,” he said with a rub of his chin. “So where are we in terms of being able to locate your mate? Are you confident in Soliarn’s ability to find her?”

The Doctor dropped to a crouch beside his wolf and scratched at the devastated animal’s ear. “More than confident,” he affirmed. “We don’t have a large search area.”

“I have teams on standby if required.”

He nodded. “I’ve no doubt you do.”

“I don’t have to explain to you just how important it is that you find her…”

“Of course I know,” he boomed out angrily. “We are talking about my _mate_. Rose’s importance to Gallifrey is far less than her importance is to me. That alone should assure you that I will do all in my power to find her safe and very sound.” He rolled his shoulder, wincing at the whimper of alarm from his wolf. “Right now the timelines are stable. I sense no reason at all to go into panic.”

“Unlike the previous two weeks where panic was your default setting,” Braxiatel murmured with annoyance. He let out a hard breath. “You have twelve hours from now to confirm that you’ve safely retrieved your mate,” he warned. “I am instructing the Captain to keep me apprised as to your progress inside that time frame. If there exists a danger beyond your control, then I will override your request on behalf of the President and send teams to intervene.” He lifted his eyes to Tom. “Am I understood?”

Tom gave him a firm nod of understanding. “Yes, Sir.” He caught the glare from the Doctor and returned one of his own. “I am immune to your attempt to intimidate me, Lord Doctor, so don’t bother wasting one of your _looks_ on me.”

The Doctor slowly drew himself to a stand. “It really isn’t my look you should be concerned about,” he warned indignantly. “Prydonian, remember. With a gift far greater than what our founders gave your kind.”

“I’m sure,” he drawled.

Braxiatel shook his head and let out a breath. “Dissent within the ranks. I can see how this is going to end up in Gallifrey’s favour.” He turned to leave, pausing to bow lightly to Martha and Jack, who till now had watched the scene without saying a word.

“Martha. Captain Harkness. Please excuse my hurry, but I _do_ have a four year old inside my capsule who has proven quite remarkably that he knows how to put a Capsule into flight. I must be off before we end up on Skaro back when Davros was a child.” He smirked as he walked toward his capsule. “Which might not be an entirely bad thing, perhaps we can ensure the brute is never born to begin with.”

“Take care of my son,” the Doctor ordered firmly. “We will be back on Gallifrey – his mother and I – in a few hours.”

“You better hope that you are,” he called without looking back at his brother. “Rassilon be with you, Brother.”

The Doctor’s lip curled as he listened to the capsule depart with his child. “Rassilon can damn well sod off.”

“For once,” Tom said with a sniff. “I actually agree with you.” He walked toward the Doctor and the wolf, keeping his hands inside his trouser pockets. “So. I expect you intend on using your male Dahrama to track the scent of whomever attacked him to find your mate?”

The Doctor’s brows pinched and he looked to Tom with curiosity. “How did you know?”

His nose turned up distastefully. “I can smell the putrid aroma of the Bounty Hunter Family on her,” he answered. “Sensed it as soon as you walked in.” He blinked slowly. “The best trackers in Kasterborous are the Dahramas. Put two and two together….”

“And got Six,” Jack said with a snicker. “Now. You got a gun for me, or what?” He looked to the Doctor, who grunted with disapproval. “You might not want to go in armed, Doc, but I sure as hell do. Rosie’s important to me as well, and if you need back-up, I’m going to make sure you’ve got it.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

John Smith looked upon a bound and tied Rose Tyler being held high up above him, at the cab of an almighty mine vehicle almost three storeys above him with a sense or horror. Even as far below her as he was he could see the blood on her wrists from the this ropes that held them. How could he miss the stark red against almost luminous white skin and creamy-yellow ropes. God, it could well have been only a few drops of blood, but it seemed like a litre. One half of him wanted to step forward with a snarl of threat and demand her release, the other half of him wanted to drop to his knees and beg for the same.

When he saw the swell and bruising on her jaw in the shape of a thumb and a length of a finger, he felt heat roar across the backs of his eyes. One eye gave an involuntary twitch. A dimple appeared in his cheek as his teeth ground together.

“Oh look,” Father of Mine said with a laugh from high above him. “He knows who she is, doesn’t he? Not just a friend, is she, Time Lord?’

Oh, he knew who she was, alright. And she was definitely _more_ than just a friend. She was quite literally the woman of his dreams. Dreams that were so vivid and real that there could be no doubt at all that this man called the Doctor was so much more a part of him than just a dream….

…Best to play along for now, though.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he seethed out through gritted teeth. Any confused frustration and annoyance he may have had were swiftly being replaced by sheer unadulterated fury.

“John,” Rose called down to him. “You need to get out of here. Please, John. Run.” 

He heard the desperation in her voice when she told him to run. His head slowly began to tilt to one side. Low. His shoulders stiffened and set back to straighten him up.

To his side, Steve laughed. “Oh he already ran,” he called back up to her with a taunt. “Hid like a coward. “But we found him, didn’t we?”

“Leave her alone,” John warned him quietly. His eyes hardened, but they remained on Rose rather than flicking to the one he was issuing the order to.

“Come out and play, Time Lord, and maybe we will,” he taunted within song. 

His eyes slid toward Steve, one time a friend, now a cruel enemy. “I am not a Time Lord.” _At least not right now I’m not_.  
  


Rose still urgently warned him to run. “You heard me, John,” she yelled. “Run!”

“Run,” he breathed out long. That one small three-letter word held significance higher than any other word in any other language. He felt a shift in his shoulders and a swirl inside his mind. “One word,” he said as he lifted his head to look toward her with all of the fierceness of his Ninth self. “Just one…”

Father of Mine growled with frustration. “Oh for the love of … I’ve had enough of this.” He gave Rose a shove in the back. “You won’t come out voluntarily, so how about we force it.” He grinned as he released his hold on the rope and let her fall off the edge of the platform.

As her feet struggled and then fell from the platform to have her fall fast to the concrete below, Rose cried out a long and desperate cry for the man inside his dreams that she loved so deeply.

“Doctor!”

At that moment, with the cry of that name, John Smith ceased to exist. There was no longer an inner war between two entirely separate halves. Now there was a front runner, a complete victor. He may have been missing a heart, and his pitifully inferior brain burned from inside-out, but the Doctor emerged with all the fury of the Oncoming Storm. He said absolutely nothing as he burst from where his coward Human self had stilled and took off toward the Haulpak before Rose’s feet had left the platform.

She was at least 25 feet high, and weighed around (Rassilon please don’t tell her he assumed this) 140 pounds. That gave him approximately 3.94 seconds to get to her before she hit the ground. To be safe and meet her part way … 2.5 seconds.

He jumped to kick off a discarded Haulpak tyre … 1 second … and then used leverage from a high tool cabinet to boost him yet higher … 2 seconds. He opened his arms to spend that last half second to pull her against his chest and brace the back of her head with one hand. They collided hard, knocking the wind right out of him, but he had enough propulsion left in him to spiral them together enough that he could fall on his side, his extended arm catching their fall to roll them along the concrete. He ended up on top of her, his hips between her legs. His hand still held the back of her head, and he used the other to prop himself up slightly to look down at her with concern.

“Rose,” he panted. His wildly flared eyes searching her face with panic. “Rose?”

She shuddered underneath him, her hands caught painfully in between their bellies. “You. You caught me,” she managed with more surprise than relief.

The expression that crossed his face was one of incredulity. “Of course I did,” he said as though there was never any doubt at all that he would. “I told you, I will _always_ catch you.”

“Time Lord!” a voice boomed from behind him. “There you are!”

His eyes narrowed and his lips puckered a second. “Do you think if we ignore them, they might go away?”

She gave him a look of pure incredulity. “What?”

There was a kick at his foot. “Get up, Time Lord. Get up and face us.”

This time, rather than fury, the Doctor simply looked annoyed. He lifted his head to look over his shoulder at Steve. “Do. You. Mind?” He gestured toward Rose underneath him. “Can’t you see that I’m busy right now?”

“Ex _cuse_ me?”

He pointed at him. “ _You_ can wait a moment.” He tipped his ear toward Rose and then turned his head to look into her face. He winked and gave her a cheeky smile “It’s been a while since we’ve been in this position, hasn’t it?” His smile fell when he saw the bruising on her jaw. He traced a fingertip along it. “I’ll fix that,” he said softly. “When we get back to the TARDIS.”

“Time Lord!”

The Doctor let out a huff of annoyance. He pressed both hands into the ground to lever himself upward. “Do excuse me a moment,” he breathed out. “Let me sort them. I’ll be right back.” He then dropped to press a small kiss to her surprised mouth, which elicited happy sound from the back of his throat. He licked his lips and then dropped to draw a much deeper connection from her. 

She turned her head from him before he could make that connection. “Please, don’t.”

“Right,” he breathed out with disappointment as he lifted up off her. Disappointment fell toward embarrassment when he realised that he had completely neglected the fact that she was completely bound and tied. He winced at that. “Yep,” he popped out with a wince. “In my eagerness to kiss you I might’ve forgotten about that…” 

“Are you at all ready yet, Time Lord?” Steve huffed impatiently.

The Doctor looked at Rose, who shook him off. “Just go deal with them. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“Glad to hear it,” he breathed out as he pushed himself to his knees, and then leapt up onto his feet. He wiped his hands against each other as he walked toward the small group of bounty hunters. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he chirped with a wide grin and a forced laugh. “Just had to take a moment to catch up with the missus. You know how it is.” His eyes rolled dramatically and his voice lowered. “He elbowed Steve in the ribs. “If you don’t take the time to greet them properly, then you end up with an angry mate and have to spend the next century sleeping with the dogs. Am I right?” He grinned. “So. Where were we, then?”

Bob growled with annoyance as he leapt down the remaining stair rung of the haulpak. He rushed toward the Doctor with a curl in his lip and fire in his eyes. “Time Lord!” he ground out with almost glee as he grabbed him by the throat and shoved him backward into Steve’s chest. 

The Doctor allowed himself to be accosted, and didn’t much react when he founf himself picked up by the throat and thrown into the chest of the _once-was-a-teacher_. He growled a little, but didn’t attempt to fight back. He did show an expression of discomfort and disgust when the old man sniffed like a dog against his throat and face. “Really. Do you mind not doing that?”

Bob’s eyes flicked to his son. “I thought you said he was the Time Lord.”

Steve nodded quickly. “He is.” He coughed and pointed toward Rose, who was lying on her back and panting toward the ceiling. “You saw what he did; how he changed when he thought she was in danger. He is the Time Lord.”

“He is not the Time Lord,” Bob growled in reply. “He doesn’t smell like a Time Lord.”

“Well,” the Doctor sang in, his face half creased with second hand embarrassment toward both men. “You’re both right, and you’re both wrong.”

Both men snarled identical expressions of annoyance toward him. “What?” Steve snapped.

The Doctor shrugged, slipped his hands into his trouser pockets, and rolled back onto his heels. “See the thing is this: Yes, I am a Time Lord,” He scratched at his sideburn, his eyes wide. “Am usually a Time Lord. Plan to become one again very shortly. But, right at this juncture, right now. Here. At this very moment in time, I’m actually very much a Human.” He held up an arm to Steve. “Here, take a sniff. No Artron or Lindos to be smelled at all.” He pushed his arm up again, with more urgency. “Go ahead. Take a sniff.”

“But your mate,” Steve said. “We almost killed her. The Time Lord should have emerged.”

His lips puckered as he took a look toward Rose, still laying on the floor. He slowly raked his eyes across the room to look at Steve, and then at Bob. “Yes, you did. Didn’t you. And that is something that we are going to revisit very shortly.” His face fell to absolute silent fury. “Because no one threatens the woman who holds my hearts and gets out unscathed.” Fury quickly shifted to friendliness, and the Doctor became quite animated. He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “As for the emergence of the Time Lord. You had it half right. The wrong half for your purposes, I’m afraid, though.”

He walked around them, his hands back into his trouser pockets. “You see, when we – the Time Lords – make the change to another species using the Chameleon Arch, the essence of the Time Lord is set aside and locked in a nifty little bio receptacle provided to us by our capsule.” He let out a breath. “And so what that means is…” he ran his hands down along his body in presentation of himself and gave a wink toward Rose. “While this is a fine example of the Homo Sapien Sapien form, it is, well, it’s Human, isn’t it? Nothing else. Literally, nothing more than that. Just a meat sack of inferior biology, one heart, small mind, no respiratory bypass.” He looked toward Bob with an upward tilt in his shoulder. “Oh, you can _try_ and bring about the Time Lord consciousness using the rather maleficent and nefarious means that you did, but all you’re going to get is a rather poor carbon copy of the real Time Lord.”

He walked around both Bob and Steve and clicked his tongue. “Your actual best bet would have been to find the receptacle that housed my Time Lord self than to try and harm my mate to draw me out.” His lip curled and all his apparent giddiness fell away. “When you did that, you made a very stupid mistake. Because not only did you draw out my consciousness, minus the life giving essence that you were actually looking for, but you also managed to make me angry. Very, very, _very_ angry….” 

His head lowered deep into his shoulders, that were set high and hunched. “Because if there is one thing you don’t ever do – it’s threaten the mate of a Time Lord…”


	52. Time Lord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor's not happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmm ... not entirely sure how I feel about this finished result. It's been a heck of a couple of days writing, deleting, rewriting, and deleting, and rewriting again.
> 
> Every step I took, every action, seemed so far out of the Doctor's character that I continually dumped it off and started new. After all that... This is what I ended up with, hopefully maintaining the Doctor and who he actually is...
> 
> ...And of course reminding myself why Rose was so important to him to begin with.
> 
> Swoon.
> 
> I really, truly, seriously hope that you like this one... I'm actually a wee bit nervous about posting it lest I disappoint you all.

~~oooOOOooo~~

None of the family members gathered in the group ahead of him seemed in any way threatened nor intimidated by his words nor his posture. If anything, the four of them actually seemed bored by it. Steve was leaned up against the haulpak tyre, his legs crossed at the ankle and his arms folded against his chest. The Mother and Father of the group just offered flat stares, with identical sneers, and really just appeared to be pissed off. And that left Mary...

…Well…

Mary wasn’t in any real kind of shape to have any outward emotion. She was injured beyond a human recovery. Whatever it was that attacked her, it had been a merciless beast for sure. A dog? A wolf? Rose did own rather a large canine, perhaps it was responsible? He turned to look toward Rose, who was still tied up and looking really quite uncomfortable lying there on the floor. 

He winced and held up a finger to the gathering. “Please do give me a moment,” he said with a huff in disappointment more toward himself than to anyone that happened to be standing around him. “I really shouldn’t leave her like that.”

“You really do seem to be taking this quite nonchalantly,” Father muttered disdainfully.

“I’m really not,” the Doctor answered with a wince in his eye as he felt a whip-crack of pain behind his eyes. “I’m actually taking this very, very seriously.” He walked toward Rose but kept his eye on the man. “But it appears we may be at somewhat of a stalemate right now.” He turned to walk backward and keep his attention on the group. “You’re looking for the Time Lord. I’m the Time Lord.” He shrugged. “But then again, I’m not.” He turned again and then crouched beside Rose. “You can kill me through your own frustration, of course. It would be quite easy for you to do, really. I’m only Human, after all.”

“But we want the Time Lord,” Father growled.

“That’s quite the conundrum for you, then, isn’t it?” The Doctor said with a shrug. He gave Rose an apologetic look as he dropped his hands and started to undo the ties around her wrists. “What with me being the last of them and all – The last of the Time Lords. It’d be quite the waste for you to just go ahead and kill me without getting what you want first.” He loosened the ropes and half whimpered as the ties gave way to reveal raw, red, and bleeding wrists. “Oh my precious Hearts,” he breathed out unable to take his eyes off her wrists. He lifted them both, holding them together, and pressed a soft kiss to where they joined. Finally he lifted his eyes to hers. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Doctor,” she whispered in reply.

“No. It’s not.” He sniffed deeply, wetly, and untied the ropes binding her chest and shoulders. He didn’t need to see the skin underneath her shirt to know it would be red and purple with bruising, much like her beautiful jaw was. The way she moved so gingerly once she was given her freedom gave him insight enough. He drew himself to a stand and held down his hand to help her to her feet. He didn’t slip an arm around her, nor embrace her when she made it to a stumbled stand, instead he dropped a hand to hold protectively at one of hers. He turned to face the group.

“Mary,” he said with a thick swallow and a flick of his eyes to the woman who could now no longer stand on her own. “Really doesn’t seem to have all that much time left in her current body.” He blinked. “The wounds she’s sustained are far too severe to be survivable.” He looked back toward the patriarch of the group. His lips pressed together and he shook his head. “Therefore, you _need_ me _alive_ as a _Time Lord_ , or she will die.”

His lip curled. “I won’t let that happen,” he snarled as he made a fast and aggressive approach toward the Doctor.

The Doctor’s lip curled and he strode a fast and equally aggressive stride forward, making sure to keep Rose behind him. “Yet you think I would allow you to hurt my mate. No,” he lowered his head and shook it. His eyes lifted to be able to look at the man through his brows. “Not _hurt_. You wanted to _kill_ her.”

“I want the Time Lord,” he snarled. “And the best way for me to get him…”

“Is obviously not to go through my mate,” he snapped aggressively. His eyes pinched and his nose scrunched. “Just to keep you caught up: The only way to bring about my true Time Lord self is to release him from the bio-receptacle provided to me by my TARDIS.” He shook his head. “Which you did not do. Therefore, you only have a rather pitiful – and rather close to death from a neural implosion … explosion … complete burn-through.” He let out a pained sound that was half gag and half moan. The right side of his face contorted into a wince that held as he spoke again. “Really didn’t think that one through, did you?”

Rose pressed up against his back and held at his arm. “Doctor, are you alright?”

A twitch in his eye and a tilt of his head made it clear that he was fighting off the burning inside his mind, and he shook his head. “No, not really,” he answered through the side of his mouth. 

She tried to walk around him, but was held in place by the way he held her hand. She made to with stroking his arm. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Just…” He sighed with a shake in his head as he petted his pockets. “Just stay behind me, please.” He felt a circular bump on the left side and smiled just slightly. He released Rose’s hand and strode forward. “So where were we then? Time Lords and how to get me to revert to one, right?”

Bob met him in the middle of the floor, standing close to nose to nose with him. His lip was curled in both anger and frustration, and his voice low and threatening. “Revert back to your Time Lord self,” he growled. His arm thrust out to point toward Rose. “Or I will see that she dies far sooner than my daughter will.”

The Doctor kept his eyes locked on the man, but his arm snapped out fast to grab at his wrist. With little more than a grunt he had his arm twisted painfully. The much larger man dropped to a knee in an attempt to stop his elbow from dislocating. “What did I tell you about threatening her,” he growled out. “If you want me, then come for me. Don’t be a coward and go after my beating hearts.”

“A coward like you,” he grit out through a groan of pain. “Who hid in plain sight to escape. Too scared to face us directly.”

The Doctor maintained the tight grip on the man’s arm and leaned down to his ear. “You think I hid from you because I was scared?” He belched out a single laugh at the notion. His voice them came out as a hoarse whisper. “You couldn’t be more mistaken.” He lifted his head to look across at the three other family members through blurring, burning eyes. By now, Mary couldn’t even stand on her own, and was in an unfortunate lean against the truck’s wheel. The Mother was at her side, struggling to keep her upright. Steve remained alone, standing in the middle of the floor in a hunch of pure indignance. 

The three of them, well, four when he added the man who whimpered and growled at his side, were once vibrant, brilliant Human beings. Well. He knew first hand that at least two of them were at any rate. Both Mary and Steve were popular teachers who did well with their students, found ways to make all of them excel. Brilliant, they were, with such great potential. He couldn’t be entirely confident about the other two of course, having never met them personally – but he was sure that they must have been great people before they were murdered and then taken hostage.

People who wouldn’t have been murdered if he had faced the family head on rather than hide himself away like he did. Four innocent lives taken because he cared so much for one that he didn’t want to see her get caught up in it.

Martha. Where was she? Had they hurt her as well in their hunt for Rose?

He immediately let go of the man’s wrist and spun to face Rose. His eyes were wide with panic “Martha, is she okay?” he breathed out through a worried breath. “Rose, is Martha safe?”

Rose nodded. “She’s safe, Doctor. Being courted by a Gallifreyan soldier last I saw her.”

He sniffed and turned around. “That doesn’t really make me feel any better about her safety,” he said with a sigh and a twitch in his eye. He held back the Gah sound that was trying to rip free of his throat and made do with lowering himself into a crouch beside the Father, who held at his arm. He flipped from furious to almost cordial as he rested his forearms on his knees to keep his balance. “You and your family killed innocent people…”

“To stay alive,” he sneered back. “To keep my family alive – like you would. Like _anyone_ would.”

“Actually,” he answered through an open mouth that showed the movement of his tongue to say the word. His eyes were almost vacant as they stared off into the distance. His voice was tight when he continued. “That’s where you’re wrong.” He shifted his head to look along his shoulder at the man. “Do you know _why_ I am the last of the Time Lords, of dear _Father of Theirs_?”

“Because Gallifrey was destroyed during the Great Time War?”

The Doctor nodded. “It was,” he agreed. He looked down and cradled his fingers together. “But did you hear how it was destroyed?” 

“The Daleks.”

He slowly shifted his head sideways. “Yes, they would try and claim that victory, wouldn’t they?” He rose to a stand, stumbling for balance as the fires of a burning mind seared hot inside him. “But the truth is, it wasn’t the Daleks. It wasn’t them at all...” He fumbled inside his pocket, no longer able to withstand the burning in his mind and desperate to return to his true self. He drew the watch from his pocket and made a show of admiring the tarnished old timepiece. “…It was me.” 

Bob said nothing, although the widening of his eyes spoke volumes.

“I had family on Gallifrey,” the Doctor continued as he very slowly inched forward step by step. “People who I cared for very _very_ much.” His eyes rolled and he half smirked. “And yes, there were also people I cared very little for. I won’t lie about _that_. But the fact remains…” His eyes hardened and his lip curled. “I killed them all. Every last one of them. Those I loved, those I loathed, and those innocent ones who I didn’t even know existed until the day I heard each and every one of them scream out in unison as their planet – _my_ planet – burned.” His hard expression softened a little, and he looked upward with brows high as is tongue settled up against the roof of his mouth. He let out a surprised sound. “Well I guess you’re right to some degree. I committed unadulterated murder and mayhem in order to save them, I suppose. Save them.” He shrugged as he looked toward the Father. “ _Well_. Not my _family_ , per se, but for those who were, are, and will become as close to me as family in their own very special ways out there across the rest of the universe.” He smiled. “Most of them here, of course.” He sighed appreciatively. “I really do have a bit of a soft spot for these humans.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Father asked with forced frustration. “What is your purpose?”

“Two reasons,” he answered with a shrug. “One: So you can get it into your thicker than thick skull that I really don’t have too many qualms about avenging the lives and bodies you stole by ending any further chance you have of ever being able to do it again. I guess you could say I’ve been there, done that. Well. Sort of at any rate.” He pressed the butt of his hand against his aching forehead. His whole face contorted in agony, which served well in producing a glare of utter fury around the wrist. “Two – and the less frightening reason - to waste time,” he said with a smirk, his eyes shifting toward Mary, who was now down on the ground in an unmoving heap, above her swam a small cloud of green gas. “There we are! One down, three to go!” he growled in a dangerous laugh as he thumbed the catch on his watch. 

Instantly he was awash with bright and brilliant amber energy. The burning in his head roared down into his toes, and with a long and loud cry of absolute agony, the Doctor fell to his knees. His head was held high, and his arms opened up to the universe to invite the Time Lord to take over this pitifully inferior body. The light drew in though his mouth, inhaled with a gasp that held as the body swayed on its knees, looking ready to fall off to one side and collapse at any moment. His held breath flew out of him in the way of a long cry in a language that only Rose could understand at that moment, the Doctor dropped forward onto his hands and knees, his fingers curling into fists as the cry lengthened and then struggled as he ran out of air to keep it going. 

Rose called out his name as she started to run across the room to reach him. “Doctor!” 

His hand shot out to the side, one palm held upward in a demand for her to stop. “Rose. Get back!” he cried out without looking at her. “Stay away.” His head dropped in between his arms and he panted once, and then twice. To all around him, the Doctor looked to be an exhausted shell, unable to move, fight, or even defend himself.

This made Steve smile widely. “And there he is,” he purred out. “The Time Lord.”

Father grinned just as widely. “He’s weak and unable to defend himself,” he half cheered. “Now, Time Lord, you belong to us.”

The Doctor lifted his head and glared toward them. His eyes swill swirled with hot amber energy, bright and holding on with a web of vein-like tendrils over his cheeks and forehead. “You think so?” he growled in an almost ethereal tone of voice. He slowly lifted up to a stand in an almost robotic manner. His left shoulder rolled, and then his right. He looked at his hands, with golden amber veins that were working to rewrite his entire biology. He then looked to Father and the smile he wore fell to a scowl. “The only person who owns me … is my _mate_ ,” he growled out as he stalked forward. His hand flicked up and circled around Father’s throat. He tightened his grip and pulled him in close, spraying spittle against his face as he snarled. “You hurt her, and now I’ll hurt you…”

“Doctor, No!” Rose cried out as she bounded across the floor, skidding to a stop at his side and grabbing at his arm. She tried with all her strength to pull at his elbow to break the hold he had on the other man’s throat. “Don’t do this.”

His eyes flicked to hers. “Rose…”

She shook her head. “You already let one of them die, Doctor. You don’t have to hurt the others.” She tugged harder at his arm. “Please. There has to be another way. This isn’t you. This isn’t who you are.”

He relaxed his arm just slightly, enough that she had at least a little leverage. The burning of Artron and Lindos was beginning to fade, and the orange filter that had been across his eyes was waning. A crease formed in between his eyes. “But Rose, they killed four innocent people. They hurt _you_ …”

“And I will heal,” she assured him. She moved her hand from his arm and cupped his cheek in her hands instead. “Please, Doctor. Don’t become _them_. I don’t want you to lose who you are … because of me.”

“I can’t let them get away with it,” he answered with a wince. “I just can’t.”

She drew his forehead to hers, holding him awkwardly to her from around the arm that still held onto the Father’s throat. “And you don’t have to. There has to be another way, Doctor. You know there is.”

He closed his eyes for just a short moment. “This is why I need you,” he breathed out in a whisper. “To stop me Rassilon, Rose. I’ve missed you so much.”

“And right now, Doctor,” she breathed out. “Thete,” she added, smiling when his breath caught at the word. “At this moment. I’m right here. Begging you to find another way.” She shook her head. “No one else needs to die tonight.”

“You always know just what to say,” he admitted. He looked down along his arm at the man held at the end of it. He let out a huff and dropped him from his grasp. “Just the right thing.” He stood tall, looming down over the man that was now cowering on the concrete at his feet. His gaze remained down along his nose as he considered the options available to him that wouldn’t kill anyone else, and would make Rose happy.

Not a lot of options, really.

Rose stood at his side and surveyed the scene a little. She looked toward the dead woman and noted the green smoky mist that hovered over her body. “Gee. Bit of a leak over there,” she murmured. “Need an exhaust fan or a shopvac…”

The Doctor’s eyes widened with her random comment. His face broke out into a grin and he practically cheered. “Oh, Rose. You are … _Brilliant_!” He spun to cup her face with both hands and pressed a hard kiss to her mouth. He only intended on the kiss being chaste, more to prove a point and celebrate than to draw anything deeper, but when he captured her surprise-parted lips and tasted her properly, his hands shifted from her face and snapped hard around her ribs. He pulled her up close, a straightening of his legs almost lifting her from the ground. He chased after the angle of attack she gave him, moving his head when she did, trying hard to maintain their connection…

Then she let out a pained sound, contracting away from him. His eyes widened with horrific realisation and he immediately released her, stepping back so quickly he may as well have pushed her off him. She fell hard onto her knees, her arms wrapped tightly around her belly. He staggered backward with confusion with a shaking head. “What?” His head still shook, utter confusion in his expression. “But I thought … Rose? What’s going on? Why can’t I … can’t we…?

His head shot up fast at a low and dangerous growl from beyond the doors. There was the clinking, scraping sound of sharp claws on polished concrete, and the heavy pant of an animal at full run. Blue-white fur, a pelt possessed by only one creature in the known universe ran by him, taking aim at Steve with bared teeth and an unearthly growl.

The Doctor spun a complete circle as the animal passed him, caught by the wind drag of such a large animal at full run. He ended up with his back to the beast, and his eyes toward yet another, leaning with pain against a tool cabinet with his arm across his belly and a rather dangerous look in his eye…

The Eighth version of himself…

The Doctor looked toward the Dahrama that threatened Steve. He then looked toward Rose, still hunched beside him, and back toward his younger self. He gulped…

..Right now, he wasn’t sure just which of the beasts were the more dangerous.

“Rassilon….”


	53. Mate Guard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of things happen here ....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what? Thank you all so much for your groovy comments and support for the previous chapter. All the fighting I had with it, all the deletions and the rewrites ... oh it made it worth it.
> 
> Stuff happens here. It starts off all serious and ya know .... but then it ends on what I think is a much more light and humourous manner. I needed to step off the D'n'M stuff for a bit and just add something weird and out there.... It helps that I read some stuff by RTD today, and I may have been inspired by that man's amazing sense of humour toward certain things over the years...
> 
> So if you don't like the end ... sorry ... but I needed some levity after all the shit I'm reading, writing, watching.....
> 
> If you haven't read it, please read the prequel and the sequel to Rose... Holy crap. THAT is some damn good writing. No matter what that man writes, I'm always instantly hooked! I miss him..... so much....

~~oooOOOooo~~

Her belly had contracted tightly, and her head swam with an indescribable ache, but Rose Tyler had enough clarity inside her to make sure that she kept her head down and pulled her sleeves down to cover the welts and scrapes with her sleeves. He was here, _her_ Doctor, and the less he saw of _this_ the better. Calming one of them down was hard enough, but two? No. They’d draw that _guilt_ strength from each other and become an unstoppable force of unreasonable fury.

So. Best to hide for now, she surmised.

She did look up at him, though, toward the younger Doctor. Through a split in the curtain of the hair covering his face, she saw his slightly staggered gait as he entered the hangar. He held at his belly, and there was a wince on his face…

…So he’d felt it too; the pain of a kiss from his elder self?

He looked her way, an expression of query on his face that asked several questions: Are you hurt? Are you okay? What in _Rassilon_ just happened? 

Rose answered in the only way she was capable of doing right now while still trying to hide herself from him. She lifted a hand and gave him a very clumsy, and very well covered thumbs up.

The pinch of his brows and the downturn of his lips told her that it was not quite the answer he had been expecting from her. The twitch in his hands as he began to straighten up now that pain was waning suggested that he expected that she run to him for shelter and safety instead of staying put. And as he shifted his eyes away from her to look toward his elder self and then toward the remaining family members, she could see the grind in his jaw; the telltale sign that he thought she was still mad at him and so now he had to multitask between not getting them all killed and determining just how to make his wife not upset with him anymore.

Prioritise, Thete…

Martha dropped at her side, her voice quiet and concerned. “Rose? You okay?”

Rose quickly turned her head to look up at her; thankful to see her friendly face. She pulled her hair behind her ear, displaying both the bruises along her jaw and the raw scrapes on her wrist. “He can’t see this,” she warned along a hiss.

Martha’s face contorted into a wince as she nodded. She lifted a hand to hold Rose’s hair from her face with the backs of her fingers. She traced the marks with an analytical eye, and then gave her a nod of agreement. “Yeah. You’re right.” Her eyes flicked up to look across at him. “At least not right now at any rate. He’s already not in the best of moods, and this might push him over the edge just a bit.” She put her arm around Rose’s back to help her to her feet and again looked toward the two Doctors. “Best we get out of here before this whole scene blows up.”

Rose chuckled. “That’s usually the best part.”

Martha grinned. “Isn’t it, though?”

~~oooOOOooo~~

The Doctor’s hands clenched and release, clenched and released again as he stepped up next to his elder self. Hew as quite clearly irritated and didn’t bother to acknowledge either Tom or Jack when they stepped up at his other side, both of them with guns raised in warning. He did, however, take a moment to greet the man to his other side.

“Human?” he asked gruffly. “Or are you Time Lord now?”

Ten sniffed indignantly. “If I was still Human,’ he gruffed. “Then that would be an awkward question for you to expect an answer to.”

“Right,” he breathed out. “Welcome back, then.”

“Is Rose okay?”

“She appears to be,” he replied softly. “No outward sign of any injury that I can see.”

“Then you weren’t really looking all that closely at her,” he drawled with accusation. “You could be blind and still see it.”

Eight swung his head quickly toward him. His eyes pinched and he turned to where Rose was only moments ago. She was gone now – no doubt taken outside by Martha – and so he looked back to his elder self. “Is she hurt?”

Ten didn’t look at his younger self. Instead his eyes were front and locked on the wolf, who had his prey on his back on the concrete with his paws on his chest as he snarled dangerously into his face. The side of his cheek dimpled and he swallowed. “More important things to be concerned with right now,” he stated firmly. “Such as a Dahrama ready to tear Steve’s throat out. Dare I ask?”

‘You may not,” Eight gruffed. He looked to Tom and Jack, turning to address them properly. “I only count three, and the family always travel in a group of four…”

“Daughter is dead,” Ten cut in. He tipped his chin to a messy heap on the floor just slightly hidden in the shadow. “Attacked, I suspect, by the Dahrama’s mate.” He looked to Eight. “Who I don’t see here. Is she okay?”

“She will be.” He pursed his lips and let out a shrill whistle. “Soliarn, stand down.”

The Wolf turned his head toward the Doctor. There was fury in the beast’s eye and a curl in his lip. He had no intention of doing any such thing as _stand down_. To prove that unspoken point, he pounded one of his front paws on Steve’s chest, ripping at his shirt with his sharp claws. Beneath him, the man let out a yell. 

“I said stand down!” the Doctor clarified with a firm yell. He pointed to the ground at his feet. “Now!”

Soliarn immediately turned back to Steve, dropping his nose to within touching distance of his. He let out a long growl that shifted to a snap, then he stepped back off. He turned to walk back to the Doctor, eyeballing him with annoyance and keeping that eye connection locked as he gave a kick with his back paw along Steve’s thigh, snagging his jeans with his claws. He lifted his muzzle into the air and half strutted toward the Doctor.

Eight narrowed his eyes at the animal. “You insolent little…” He huffed. “Protect Rose and Martha, please.”

To his left, Tom snorted in amusement around the sight of his gun. He quickly shoved down that amusement. “What’s the order, Sir?” he asked with his face quickly falling into threat toward the man he held his weapon on. “I’ve got solution.”

Ten stepped forward. He held up his hands in a request for calm, turning to walk backward while facing the group. “No guns, please.” He looked to his younger self with an annoyed expression. “Since when do we support bringing weapons to the fight?”

“Since when _shouldn’t_ we?” Tom muttered dryly. Still with his gun aimed to the forehead of the Family’s father, he shifted his eyes toward Ten. “Try repeating your question in your head once or twice, Sir.”

Ten pointed at him. “Don’t call me Sir.” He sniffed and looked away. “Although I admire how you manage to say it with enough disdain to make it facetious.” He looked to his elder self with annoyance. “Travelling with soldiers now.” He turned to face the enemy, heading up his own group by at least two metres. “Oh do we have a lot to discuss when this is over, you and I.” 

All annoyance in his voice ceased, replaced by a smile and cheer as he clapped his hands and then rubbed them together.

“Right!” he called out. “Let’s do this. Someone find me a shopvac and the keys to one of these trucks.”

~~oooOOOoo~~

Martha and Rose waited outside the shed under the orange glow of the carpark’s floodlight. They were silent for the most part, each of them worried about the people who remained inside. It was a companionable silence, though, existing only because neither knew where to start, not because they had no desire to speak.

Rose leaned against a dirt-stained pickup truck with her arms folded loosely across her chest. While her jaw and chest ached with their bruising, her wrists hurt much more, stinging with the bite of dust and iron blowing in from the mine. She pulled at her sleeves and winced with a hiss to try and cover them.

Martha pulled from the lean she had on the car beside her. She opened the car door, and retrieved a red first aid kit from the back seat. “Here,” she said gently. “Let me see what I can do about that.”

Rose relaxed her stance and walked toward her. “Do you have a dermal regenerator handy?”

Martha smirked as she unzipped the kit. She made a show of searching through all of the items. After a moment she clicked her tongue and shook her head. “I’m afraid they’re missing one of those from this kit. Someone call Occupational Health ad Safety and let them know.”

Rose chuckled and held out her hands, the underside of her wrists facing upward. It was there that the scrapes and bruising were most painful and prominent. She winced at the same time that Martha hissed. “It looks worse than it is,” she offered gently.

Martha shook her head. “Abrasions always feel worse, though,” she said. “Bit like a papercut compared to a wound incision.” She lifted her eyes thanked with amusement. “Which one hurts more?”

“Which one gives you drugs to dull the pain,” Rose replied with a chuckle. 

“Yeah, true,” Martha said as pulled on a pair of latex gloves from the kit and ripped open a small packet containing a wet wipe soaked in a yellow-brown antiseptic solution. She held one of Rose’s hands and looked up at her with an apologetic expression. “Sorry, but this is going to sting a little. Apparently in the early 90’s they still used iodine as their choice of disinfectant.”

Rose nodded, wincing in preparation for the pain that would race across the scrape when Martha cleaned it. The wince wasn’t a waste of time, it deepened and she let out a hiss and a whimper.

“Sorry,” Martha breathed out. “Stings, but it works.”

“Bit like telling me if it tastes bad it’s going to work,” she replied with a sigh. The sting was still there, but at least now she was finding herself able to stand it without wanting to stomp her feet and cry about it. “I’m guessing that the Doctor arranged for Mark to be cared for before you all came looking for us?”

“He’s on Gallifrey with the Doctor’s brother,” she answered as she focused on trying to remove small strands of hessian from the wound. “The Doctor gave him a call when we found Tiallu. Had him bring the male – Soliarn is it?”

Rose nodded. “Tiallu, is she…?”

Martha nodded. “She’ll be fine. The Doctor used that regeneration trick that my Doctor did to yours back on that Dalek infested planet a few weeks ago.” She chuffed. “Years for _you_.”

Martha tossed the piece of paper towel into a large 50 gallon drum repurposed into a track bin. “Anyway,” she continued. “When he saw Tiallu, the Doctor decided he wasn’t going to mess about. He called Brax, who popped ‘round with Solairn. The Doctor asked him to take Mark back with him to keep him safe.” She opened another package and reached for Rose’s other wrist. “He leapt on the chance. Seems that Romana wants to take him to the zoo.”

Rose chuckled. “He’ll love that. Romana spoils that kid rotten, I’ve no doubt that he’ll end up coming home with a six-foot teddy bear of the most terrifying looking creature at the place.” She let out a sigh, trying hard not to wince at the fresh sting against her skin. Looking at it with the yellow stain of iodine, what was once a raw patch of broken skin now looking like a festering gaping mess. “God, Martha, it looks worse now.”

“I know,” she admitted with a frown. “But really, as bad as it looks, this is better than it was. At least the muck and germs are out of them and we’re not looking at infection setting in before the Doctor can treat it back a the TARDIS.”

“Yeah, but if he sees this,” Rose murmured worriedly. “Like _this_. He’ll flip out. He’s already in a mood, I don’t want to make it worse.” She held both her wrists up. “Can we cover them up with a bandage or something, then you’n me can hit the medbay and erase all the evidence?”

“I’d really prefer we didn’t cover it,” she answered as she pulled off the gloves and tossed them into the bin. “This needs to dry out.” She looked with distaste toward the gauze and bandage packets in the kit, none of which were without at least one rip of tear. “I doubt that I’d have too much faith in any of those being sterile.”

“Please?”

Martha lifted her head and then slid her hand underneath the curtain of Rose’s hair to hold it just out of the way of her jaw. Her touch was soft as her thumb lightly touched the area to assess the swelling. “How will you hide this from him, Rose?” She caught her eyes in hers and gave her a smile. “He’s not going to be mad at you, you know that, right?”

“If it was only the threat of him getting’ mad, then it wouldn’t worry me as much,” Rose said with a sigh. “But that man has one of the biggest guilt complexes in the universe. He’ll find some way to blame himself for this.”

“Don’t I know it,” Martha answered with both her brows high with agreement. She let her hand fall from Rose’s hair and lightly took hold of the fingers of one of Rose’s hands in a supportive gesture. “So you know what you need to do, then? You need to think of ways to counter off every single excuse he can come up with to make this all his fault. And if you’ve got to take this whole thing back to the day you were born to counter them all off, then you do it.”

“Wise suggestion,” Rose said with a grin.

Martha shrugged. “I have a guilt-ridden mother who likes to make it all about her as well, I’ve become a master at pulling out the straw from underneath her on it.” Her eyes rolled widely. “And trust me. Sometimes it can take an entire day to counter her every attempt at it.”

She laughed through her nose. “Then don’t walk too far away, I might need you to help me out.”

“I think you have it covered,” Martha replied with a wink and a smile.

“But to be sure,’ Rose peeped with a small whine. “Can we cover it for now?”

Martha gave a small nod. “Yeah, okay.” She turned to retrieve a small wrapped cylinder of bandage gauze. “Okay.”

“I’m glad he has you,” Rose said softly as Martha took her wrist gently. “I know I should be all territorial and stuff being replaced, but I really think you’re good for ‘im.”

“I haven’t replaced you, Rose,” she answered softly. “He made sure I knew that the moment I stepped on board the TARDIS. _You’re not replacing her_ ,” she repeated in her best impression of him. “ _Just so you know. Me and Rose; we were … together...”_

“He didn’t say that,” Rose said with shock. “Tell me he didn’t say that to you.”

Her eyes lifted and pinched in the hope that she would understand. “Rose. He _loves_ you. He made that clear right from the start.” Her lips pursed and she paused her movements to begin wrapping her wrist. “I’ll be honest with you, Rose. In the beginning, I was taken by him. I had hoped that maybe, just maybe, he’d be interested in me and we might explore something…”

“I see.”

“Don’t hate me for that,” she pleaded.

Rose shook her head. “I don’t. He’s an easy man to fall for.” She let out a breath. “I’m not part of his life now.” She exhaled and looked up across Martha’s head. “And I won’t be.” She looked back down to her. “Stay with him, Martha. He needs you.”

Martha’s mind corrected her quietly with a soft “ _it’s not me he needs_ ”, but she didn’t say it out loud. Instead she lightly shifted Rose’s hand and readied to wrap it. “I really don’t want to do this, Rose.”

“Please? I don’t want him to see it…”

Martha nodded slowly. Her eyes lifted up over Rose’s shoulder and softened apologetically at the man standing behind her. His soulful eyes showed an expression of hurt, but not of anger. He moved around her and mouthed words of thanks. “Here.” he said softly as he took the gauze from her hands and stepped in between she and Rose. “Let me,”

Rose’s eyes winced at the quietness of her husband’s voice. More upsetting was the way his eyes refused to meet hers. When he took her hands in his, she made a rather poor effort of trying to pull them away. “Doctor…”

He hushed with a soft shush through his teeth. He didn’t want to speak. Not now. Definitely not right now. There’d be very little way for him to maintain any of his composure if he did. Right now, remaining silent, he could keep that carefully crafted calm exterior of his. He swallowed as he held her wrists in his and let his eyes trace over the scrapes and burns left from the ropes. He was able to see past the ugliness of the iodine to focus only on the damage itself. He turned her wrists to look over the backs. His teeth grit to see that the burns circled her wrists completely. He could see that the ropes had been tied in three loops around her wrists with alternating _figure eights_ to prevent her being able to free herself.

…How very appropriate.

The damage was only superficial, and Martha was right, they shouldn’t be covered. He could repair the damage well enough in the TARDIS med bay in only a few tingling and uncomfortable minutes.

He lifted his eyes to finally meet with hers. His lips parted to let he know that he’d repair her wounds back at the TARDIS, but all that escaped him was an exhale of upset when he saw the bruising at her jaw. He lifted a shaking hand to skim him fingers in between her hair and her cheek and tenderly held her hair back with the backs of his fingers. Bruises and swelling in the shape of fingerprints spread from both cheeks across her chin, darker at the edges of her lips.

“Oh my hearts,” he whispered hoarsely, mirroring the reaction of his elder self when he’d seen the same thing earlier.

“I’m fine,” she insisted as she took his hand away from her face and held it down in between them. “More cosmetic than anythin’ else. Nothing serious, you hear me?”

He stared at her, but said nothing.

“Look at me properly and not as the Doctor with a capital D,” she pleaded. “Look at me like you would any patient on Gallifrey, like their doctor with the little d.”

“You know I can’t do that,” he answered back quietly. “Like it or not, Rose, I’m your Doctor both of the big and little D varieties.” He lifted his hand to gesture toward her face. “And when I see something like that on you, I can’t remain purely objective. I want someone to pay for it.” He breathed out a breath. “And I want to kick myself for not stopping you when you walked out the TARDIS. If I had, then this wouldn’t have happened.”

Her eyes flicked to Martha, who looked at her with wide eyes and a nod of her chin to tell her she knew how to handle this. She looked back at him. “And maybe,” she began slowly. “Maybe if I hadn’t let Mark get into the TARDIS, then we wouldn’t have been here in the first place. Hmmm? You wanna play that game?” Her eyes narrowed. “Then game on, I’m ready for it.”

His brow lifted. His wife was issuing a challenge in an attempt to stave off the oncoming guilt. This was new. He slid his eyes to Martha, noting the tail end of a fist pump she was trying to hide from him. His brows flicked and he licked at his lip, holding his tongue at the corner of his mouth for a moment. He flicked a finger between the two ladies.

“I approve,” he said with a smile. “You two can continue to play together.”

Rose looked perplexed. “What?”

He moved forward quickly. He slid both hands either side of her face, and stooped with a bend in his knees to lower himself to kiss her. As was typically the case when the Doctor drove forward to kiss his Rose, what he had intended it to be was not what it ended up being. He had a smile of amusement and pride in her strength when he shifted in. He pressed his lips to hers firmly, but not really anything more than to just press up against her mouth. But then she gasped, whimpered, and her arms came up underneath his arms to grab at his shoulders and keep him firmly in place … in fact, pulling him closer. She was the one to deepen their connection this time around, flaring their bond, and therefore he had no control over it and simply had to ... oh so _begrudgingly_ of couse… ehm … go along with it.

Three words fled across his mind in great big mauve letters: _Two weeks_. _Mine_.

His eyes flashed open. With a gasp and an unhappy, disappointed sound, he shoved himself backward. He took a long stride backward, staggering and struggling to take a breath. “Stop,” he begged. “Stop.”

Rose looked absolutely mortified, as did Martha, who looked at him with wide eyes. She’d seen what happened when her Doctor had kissed Rose … was the same happening to him? Was there an illness or a virus that was preventing him from being able to be affectionate with his wife? Time Lord meningitis or something?

She rushed forward to him. “Doctor, is there something wrong?” She looked to the door of the shed, where her own Doctor was exiting beside Jack and Tom, swinging the cannister of what looked like a shop vac by the hose. She looked back at him. “I’ll go get the Doctor, maybe he’ll…”

“Nope,” he squeaked out with an embarrassed wince in his brow. “No need for that.”

“But…”

He shook his head. “Really no need at all for you to bring him in. Best you don’t, really.”

“Jack?” she queried. “Tom?”

His eyes were horrified by the suggestion about the latter person. “By Rassilon’s crest _no_. Don’t being the Cerulean anywhere near me right now.” He looked toward Rose and noted that she was chuckling into her hand. He narrowed his eyes at her. “Oh, I’m glad you’re finding humour in this.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Doctor. I forgot – I didn’t think.” She looked toward Martha with apology and slight embarrassment. “He hasn’t seen me in a while, two weeks in his time, and when we kissed just now I might’ve activated a section of our bond…”

“Activated? No, Rose. You lit a fuse,’ he corrected sharply. “A very large and dangerous fuse that can’t simply be unlit by a pair of wet fingertips.”

“Well, when you put it that way, it sorta can,” Rose huffed out with a suppressed smile. 

Beside her, Martha snorted. “How bad is it, really?”

“We occasionally mate guard,’ the Doctor warned her. “In certain circumstances, and _under certain activations –_ thank you Rose _-_ a Gallifreyan male becomes very territorial over his mate. And just so you’re up to speed in my quandary, there are two Gallifreyan males over there and it really doesn’t matter than one of them is me.”

“Oh, _shit_.” There was no hiding the humour in her voice.

He looked between them, then he looked at his mate. His eyes narrowed, and he quickly reached out to grab her hand. “Come on,” he demanded. “It we run, we’ll get ahead of them by at least a half hour. I’m pretty sure we can fix this in that time-frame.”

Martha held up a set of keys, jangling them in his face. “If you drive,” she offered. “You could probably get an hour in. I mean, an hour ahead of them.” she flicked her head to the trio talking in the doorway of the shed, no doubt cheering themselves on over the catch of the day. “Don’t’ worry. I’ll make them all walk back. Slow.”

He snatched the keys from her hand and kissed her on the cheek. “I certainly chose the best when I chose you, didn’t I, Martha? Thank you.”

“I didn’t just hear you say that,’ Rose sang as she snatched the keys from him and jumped into the driver’s seat. She hung out the window to Martha waiting for the Doctor to get in the passenger seat. “Don’t let him leave before I get to talk to him properly.”

“Promise,” she vowed. “I think he’ll want to speak with you anyway. Now off you pop. See you in an hour.”

Rose slapped the door with her hand. “Soliarn, in the back!” She waited for the wolf to leap into the bed of the truck and then floored it with a wave out the window.

Martha stepped back and shielded her eyes with her forearm and a slouch in her frame as the car sped away with a kick of dust and gravel. There was a smile on her face when she turned to face the three remaining men.

“What the hell?” Jack barked out incredulously. “Where did they go?”

“Emergency,” Martha spoke out slowly. “A Gallifrey thing, I think. They, ehm. Well. There was something that needed to be addressed rather swiftly, and so I told them to be on their way. Said we’d meet at the TARDISes in an hour or so.”

The Doctor narrowed his eyes at her with suspicion. “Why do I get the feeling that you aren’t being entirely upfront about that?”

“Because I’m not,” she replied with a shrug. “But their business is their business and not yours, so you just have to trust me, yeah?”

“Ri-ight,” he drawled. He then grinned and held up the canister by the hose, looking to Martha like a poorly dress Ghost Busters cosplayer. “Well, it took a minute, but we got em!”

Martha stepped in close to him. She threated her arms around his waist and stepped in to press her ear against his chest. She sighed when she felt him loosely drop his arms around her. “What’s that for?” he queried with a smile.

“It’s just good to have you back, Doctor,” she answered. “I missed you.”


	54. Hashing it out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten and Rose need to talk....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn this one got away from me...
> 
> This is mainly a Ten and Rose bit. The two of them hashing it out, and Rose simply becoming more and more confused about things, while Ten just gets more frustrated.
> 
> I do hope that you enjoy this bit. It is long, and it's yelly and angry and sad and whatever... I hope I can take you on a bit of a rollercoaster with it. :)
> 
> Thanks again for your comments. They keep me going!

~~oooOOOOooo~~

The one thing that Rose Tyler was not really well known for was squealing. Oh, maybe back at primary school, when she carried a little bit too much of that pre-adolescent weight on her bones, she might’ve been called “piggy” by the other kids and had it spread around school that she did squeal and snort-grunt while she wallowed in mud…

…Such were the teases and taunts of young bullies in the school yard…

But as an adult, no. Squealing wasn’t really part of her repertoire. She actually found the notion of a squeal quite repugnant, really. Well, that was unless she was on the run from a playfully growling fully grown – and apparently mature - Time Lord, who had somehow managed to regress into a child because he wanted to do _adult_ things.

…Figure that one out and please provide a powerpoint presentation or box of crayons to help explain it. She couldn’t work it out. Oncoming Storm, indeed.

And so, on this day in March, 1992, inside a TARDIS inside a steel shed inside a High school in Western Australia, Rose Tyler fled through the corridors of said TARDIS, squealing like the little piggy that her primary classmates – class _enemies_ – accused her of being so many years ago. She burst into the expansive console room of the TARDIS she shared with her Doctor and immediately fled down the tall staircase and across the floor toward the centre console. Knowing he was very likely only a second or two behind her, she ran to the other side of the console and stopped. She pressed her hands onto the console counter and leaned around the centre column. Her eyes lifted to watch the top of the staircase, and her mouth was parted just slightly, and expression of cautious individual on watch.

She didn’t have to wait an incredibly long moment to see him quickly round the corner and then pause at the top of the stairs. Her cautious, curious expression shifted into a smile of tease.

“Getting a bit slow in your old age, eh, Doctor?” she gloated. “I got a whole five seconds on you.”

“You had a forty five-second head start on me,” he said with a shrug as he made a slow walk down the stairs. “Which you wouldn’t have had if my trousers hadn’t somehow ended up in the corridor, rather than on the back of the chair where I’d actually put them.”

She let out a thoughtful humph and pursed her lips as she looked off to one side as though in thought. “Well,” she drawled out. “This leads me to believe that your intentions for chasing me through the TARDIS aren’t quite as … well ...” she flicked her eyes to him as he reached the bottom of the stairs. “That you weren’t actually interested in …ehm …”

“What makes you think that?” he asked, knowing exactly what she was alluding to. He walked around the console with a smile, not too surprised that she was walking around it as well, keeping their distance the full diameter of the console apart.

“Well, if you were, then you mightn’t have bothered with the trousers at all.”

He smirked and gave a shrug. “As you are well aware, they are very easily dropped with a flick of my wrist,” he told her with a wink. “But regardless of my intentions when I finally found you, I didn’t think it quite appropriate for me to run around my TARDIS without my pants and a pair of trousers on.”

“I dunno,’ Jack called with humor from an armchair beside the large wall of bookcases. “I think it _very_ appropriate given the circumstance, Doctor, and now I’m actually really disappointed that you didn’t run in here pantsless.”

Rose yelped with surprise and spun around to press her back into the console edge. “Jesus, Jack!” Her eyes widened to see not only Jack seated by the book case, but Tom and Martha as well – sharing a small loveseat that had mysteriously appeared in the room. Her face reddened with horrific speed. “How embarrassing.”

The Doctor walked around the console to finally meet her and thread his arm across her shoulder. He put his other hand in his pocket and crossed his legs at the ankle. It was a lazy lean, but it adequately allowed him the means by which to settle himself without too much further embarrassment.

“Aren’t there two other TARDISes that you could have waited in instead of mine?” he chipped out rudely. He didn’t oomph or even show any reaction when Rose slapped lightly at his chest and told him to be more polite.

Jack stretched up his arms, and then his legs, and gave a long groan. He then shuddered as he pulled himself back together and stood up from the chair. “This is the only one of them that’s in any way comfortable for more than one person to wait in,” he admitted with a shrug. He grinned. “And, what, with the possibility that we may just witness a frisky pantsless Time Lord running around the console room after his mate? The decision was easy…”

“Speak for yourself,” Tom muttered with a wince.

“And speaking of pantsless,” Jack continued. He pointed toward the Doctor’s crotch. “Am I to understand that you’re all commando underneath all that wool and cashmere?” There were a round of pained groans from all present excluding Jack and the Doctor himself. He looked around. “Well? Aren’t you the least bit curious to know?”

Tom shook his head. “Absolutely not,” he ground out as he tightened the hold of his arm across Martha’s shoulder, and shifted the seat of his chin atop her head. “And so if you don’t mind…”

“Just what is going on here?” the Doctor growled out with a point toward the loveseat. “Why is there non-approved snuggling and cuddling happening onboard my TARDIS?”

Martha’s eyes widened and she let out a peep as she hurriedly pulled herself out of her lazy relaxed cuddle with the Cerulean Time Lord. She dropped her forehead into her palm and gave her head a shake. “Here we go.”

“I thought I warned you,” the Doctor growled. “The both of you.” He glared toward Tom. “And especially you. Hands off my companions, wasn’t that my warning?”

“Well not exactly,” he countered with a shrug. “Your exact instruction were…”

“I know what I said,” he snapped. “And I was very specific in not providing consent…”

“It’s not _your_ consent I need!”

Martha let out a groan. She shook her head and stood up, walking the short distance between the chair and the console. “Looks like we have a situation in need of diffusing.”

“Need me to help?” Rose asked.

Martha shook her head. “Nah,” she drawled. “This one is all mine, and not for you to worry about.” She jutted her chin to the doorway. “You do, however, need to worry about what’s beyond those doors and diffusing the confusion and hurt of that man out there.”

“He’s waiting for me?”

She nodded. “Yes, but not in the TARDIS. He’s outside, on the picnic bench in the play yard.”

“Been there long?”

“About a half hour,” she answered. “No doubt stewing away and making himself more miserable by the second.”

She put her hand on Martha’s shoulder as she pulled off the console. “Thanks, Martha.” She looked toward the feuding Time Lords at the book case. “Good luck with them.”

“I’m a big girl,” she said with a sigh. “I make my own decisions. Despite what he thinks, I don’t need the Doctor to make them for me.”

Rose nodded and walked to the doorway. She could hear the angry sounds of an argument behind her and did her best not to focus on that too much as she opened the doors and stepped into the shed. She kicked at the red dust at her feet and drew in a sigh as she walked through the second doorway into the school, and to the play area that lay beyond it.

The Doctor was waiting as Martha had told her he was. He sat on the seat of the bench, facing opposite her, leaning his back against the table. He wasn’t wearing his coat, but was in his brown pinstriped suit, and his eyes were lifted to the night sky above. Lit by the orange lights of the buildings, yet still hidden in shadow, he looked to her like a proud statue of a man, unmoving, perfectly still … and absolutely beautiful.

She walked around the bench and stood ahead of him for a short moment. He didn’t shift or really acknowledge her presence, and so she walked to his side, stepped onto the bench beside him to lift herself up to sit on the tabletop. She exhaled a sigh as she lifted her head to look at the same stars he was watching.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed out appreciatively. “Isn’t it?”

“It’s certainly a different sky to what you’re used to,” he answered softly. “Different constellations here than in the skies over London.”

“Not that you can see them all that well,” she said with a chuckle. “What with all the light pollution and cloudy skies an’ all.”

He leaned back a little further, lifting an arm to pointing to a set of four bright stars above them in a kite-like formation. “The Southern Cross,” he lectured gently. “Visible from the Southern Hemisphere throughout the entire year. It holds great importance to the people of Australia and New Zealand, with both countries including it on their national flags.” He pursed his lips. “Well, it has significance to many nations, really. But really none so much as the people of this land.”

“It’s part of their national anthem,” she added softly. “Beneath our radiant Southern Cross, we toil with hearts and hands” she sang softly.

He shifted his head to look up and toward her. She was still looking upward, and he held onto the gasp of reverence to the beauty of her over him. “That’s from the second verse of the song,” he half whispered. “Most Australians don’t know that part of it. How do you?”

She smiled and finally lowered her head to look down at him. “Had an Australian for a teacher in the fourth grade. She taught it to us, along with Waltzing Matilda and Click go the Shears.” A smile spread across her cheeks. “I never forgot it, and even used to sing along with the anthem singer before the rugby games on telly.”

“Never guessed you were a rugby fan,” he admitted with a wide expression.

“I’m not,” she drawled with a shrug and a smile. “But when you’ve got a boyfriend whose life revolves around the next game on telly, you get caught up in it, I guess.” 

“Ahhh,” he breathed out through an open mouth. “Mickey. Right.”

“Actually, Jimmy,” she corrected softly. “Micks watched soccer.” She let out a huff and held herself as she looked around the field. “Seems that my choice in men seem to include a love of sports.”

“Not me,” he said softly. “Well, I’ll watch it here and there if I’ve got nothing better to do, but it’s not something I plan my week around.”

“Well,” she countered slowly, with a smile. “You do, it’s just not _sports_ as in what humans watch. You’re more into Athletics than team sorts, I s’pose. Gaol escapes, running from the bad guys, hop, skip, jump and all that.”

He chuckled. “I suppose you’re right,” he admitted. “If you really squint hard…”

“You’ve been teaching Mark how to play Zero-Grav Hyperball,” she mused out loud. “Brax told me you used to play back at the academy and were known to be pretty sneaky in devising some inventive ways of keeping the ball stuck in your team’s racquets.”

The Doctor’s smile fell and he repeated his brother’s name along a sad breath.

She petted the table beside her with a light slap of her palm. “Join me?”

“Why did you leave me?” he asked instead of accepting her invitation. He remained seated on the bench’s seat with his shoulder against her knee rather than up beside her.

“Doctor…”

“I need to know,” he asked without raising his voice higher than a hoarse whisper. He lifted his head to look up at her. “What did I do to you that was so bad that you took off without so much as saying goodbye?”

She considered arguing that her leaving him wasn’t as simple as he was making out that it was; that she had no intention of running away like she did; that she had really just ended up in the wrong TARDIS that flew to the other side of the universe and she wasn’t allowed to leave. Instead she simply sighed a sound as sad as his was. “You broke my heart.”

An argument to that formed in his mind, but this conversation wouldn’t end all that well if he took that route. He merely lowered his head and looked into his hands. “What happened on Crandinia, Rose, it wasn’t what you think.”

“If that had been the only time, Doctor, then I might believe you.” She closed her eyes and tried to shake the images of everything from her head. “But it wasn’t.” She drew in a wet sniff. “An’ I get it, Doctor. When you changed, you changed more than just your physical appearance. Your feeling’s changed, too.” She blew out a breath. “You fell out of love with me…” She stopped with a sharp inhale when he shot to a stand and quickly spun in the dirt to face her. He stepped in between her thighs, slamming his hands down onto the tabletop beside her hips. There was fury in his eyes.

“How can you think that about me?” he growled. “How can you possibly believe that my entire universe didn’t revolve around you?”

She didn’t shrink under his glare. She’d become quite immune to his glares of fury over the years, and so now if anything merely found that glare adorable rather than intimidating. She leaned forward just slightly, showing him she was unaffected. “Because it stopped revolving around me the day you exploded into flame and changed from the man who loved me into the man who loved everything else but me.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he snapped. “I never stopped…”

“Never stopped what?” she asked him sharply. She wasn’t letting him get away with it this time. Too many times she’d let him let her assume the end to any of his sentences that alluded to rather than confirmed how he felt about her. When he stared at her, she offered him a glare of her own. “Well? Go on. Never stopped _what_ , Doctor?” She folded her arms across her chest, holding herself firm within the arc of his chest and arms that surrounded without touching her at all. “There are plenty of ways that sentence could end, and quite frankly, I’m tired of you expectin’ me to work it out.”

His fury fell and his shoulders relaxed enough that he could lower his head. “You were always my first priority, Rose. That never changed.”

She belched out a laugh to that statement, not surprised at all when his head shot up to look at her with an expression of shock. “Oh. Please, Doctor. If that was what you call being your first priority, then I’d hate to think of how you’d treat someone you could barely stand to be around.” Her finger shot up with warning when he inhaled a breath in preparation to argue. “And you just remember, Doctor. I not only had the man before you prove to me I had worth, but I’m also with another who makes damn sure that I never have any doubt at all as to how much he loves me.”

“Yeah, convenient that, isn’t it?” he snarled petulantly.

Her eye twitched. “What is?”

He leaned slightly forward to give himself the momentum to push himself off the bench and away from her. “Never mind. Anything I had to end that thought with wasn’t exactly complimentary.”

“To you or me?” she asked with a huff. She lifted her hand and shook her head. “Don’t answer that. I’m pretty sure I have a fair idea of what you were thinkin’, Doctor.” She shook her head and leaned the fold of her arms down onto her knees. “B’cause I’ve thought the same thing myself more’n once.” She lowered her head. “But it was actually you – and I mean younger you – that gave me the clarity on it to make me feel more comfortable with how I’ve ended up, and who I ended up with.”

“Oh, I bet he did.”

“He says that it proves to him that no matter his body, his mind, or where he is – I’m going to be in love with him.” She watched him lose the furious rigidity of his posture. “And I will, too. With him, with old you, and with you.” She sighed. “I’ve fallen in love with each version of you I’ve ever met, and reckon I’ll love any more of you I meet.”

He turned his head to look at her but didn’t walk her way. He remained in place. “And three versions of me have felt that way for you as well.” He blinked, emotion clear on his face even though he was mostly in shadow. “I thought you knew,” he said with a croak in his voice. “How can you not have known how I felt?”

“Because it needs to be _said_ ,” she answered simply. “It needs to be _shown_ , and you, unfortunately, aren’t very good at doing either.” She let out a breath and what followed was barely audible. “At least not to me.”

He walked slowly toward her now, confusion across his brow. “I don’t understand,” he said quietly. “Especially when you make that distinction.”

She looked up at his approach, not surprised when he stopped a few feet from her. “You forgot about me on New Earth,” she answered softly. “Didn’t even bother to hold the elevator, which left me alone, and let Cassandra take control of my mind. In Scotland, you were so occupied by something else, that I ended up in a dungeon with a dangerous being. I nearly died…”

“I came for you,” he managed meekly.

“Almost before it was too late,” she said with a sad look in her eye. “When we met Sarah-Jane…” She let out a shaking breath. “You ignored me completely in favour of her…”

“She’s a very old friend.”

“And I get that,” she said with a flick of her eyes to him. “I do. But in that moment – after all that you and I had already been through to that point. The love we’d made. The fact that you’d died for me … you couldn’t have made me feel less worthy of you.”

“You picked on her,” he barked. “From the moment you met. All territorial and … and … and you were mean.”

“She started it,” Rose said with a petulant sniff. “I just followed along with her attitude.” She flicked her hand at him. “And you were no help at all. So eager to let her know that you didn’t fancy your _younger_ assistant, that you ignored me completely.” She lowered her chest to hug her knees. “And then, when I came to you looking for some reassurance, you just got all irritated with me.”

“I was irritated with myself,” he admitted through gritted teeth. “Not with you.” He took a step forward. “I told you that night, Rose. I told you that you could spend the rest of your life with me.”

“As am analogy, maybe,” she corrected. “Not in any way that made me feel all that confident. You had the perfect opening at that moment to affirm that you felt for me as strongly as you did in your previous body. Hell, I honestly believed you were going to…” She let out a breath. “But then, of course, you left off the end of that sentence not confirming nothing.”

“I did, though,” he confirmed. “Rassilon, Rose. I still do! More than I did when I was him.”

“Still do what, Doctor?” she asked him with a lift of her head and her eyes. 

He didn’t answer, instead just offered her a look to tell her she should already know.

Rose rolled her eyes and looked away from him. “I was pretty down by that point, I have to admit. Then you let Micks come on board to travel with us … the ex-boyfriend.” She lifted her eyes to him. “And on his first trip … Madame du Pompadour…”

He winced at that name.

“Yeah, it still hurts that you lost her, doesn’t it, Doctor?” she caught the snap of his eyes toward her and shrugged at him. “You loved her more in a few short hours than you ever did me ... in that body, anyway.”

“I didn’t love her,” he argued softly.

She actually laughed at that. “Yeah, you did, Doctor. You gave it all up for her: the TARDIS, your life of travelling the universe.” She gulped. “Left me an’ Micks all alone 5,000 years out of our own time with no idea how to get home just to be with her.”

“To save her life,” he corrected with a downward punch of his hand into a fist at his side. “Like I did with you when we were on the gamestation. Remember that? Do you? I gave you my TARDIS to send you home, safe. Gave it all up to keep you alive.”

“And with that comment, you really expect me to believe you didn’t love her, Doctor?” She slid off the table, pushing at the edge with her hands so as not to scrape her back on it. “I just hope you got to tell her how you felt,” she said with a sigh. “Like you never did with me.”

“I’m not going to tell her what wasn’t true,” he answered. “Not when it wasn’t her that I…” His voice fell away.

Rose didn’t even bother to acknowledge that he’d left off the ending of a sentence yet again. She kept her head low and set her hands lightly on her hips. “Anyway,” she huffed out. “I really don’t know why you’re asking me all this, anyway.” She lifted her head. “Me and you – the you I’m with now – he knows all this. He’s the one who found me in his library with my heart shattered all ‘round me.” Emotion crept into her voice as she remembered that day. “I was destroyed. So heart bro-ken.” The last word broke as the emotion inside the memory became too much for her to suppress. She was surprised to feel his pinstriped arms move around her, then, underneath her arms, but she didn’t fight him. She lifted her arms to circle around his neck, rising onto her toes to bury her face into the crook of his neck. His arms tightened around her, pulling her in tightly enough that she could feel his hearts beating against her breasts. It was then that she felt the shudder inside him. His sniff was wet and his exhales shaking out his mouth.

“I’m sorry, Rose.’ He finished that vow with a further tightening of his arms and a falter where he stood. “I’m so sorry.” He hiccupped. “To both of us.”

Rose sensed a breaking point for him and quickly slid her arms from around his neck to cup his face. She pulled back as far as his hold would allow and looked into his face. His cheeks were as wet as she had expected them to be given the shudder of his frame and the wetness of his sniffs, but she didn’t expect to see the level of heartbreak inside his red-rimmed eyes. She fought against her own sympathetic response to his devastation, which was tough considering she’d been suppressing her own pain for the last few minutes, and ran her thumbs along his bottom lip. “Maybe I should have pushed you harder,” she whispered.

He kissed her thumbs as his eyes closed and fell into a frown. “You wouldn’t have everything you do now,” he whispered after a moment. He lowered his forehead to hold it against hers. “Marriage, a child… I expect a home as well on Gallifrey.”

“Children,” she corrected softly. 

His eyes opened to give her a soft gaze. “You’re not …?”

“Working on it,” she said with a smile. “You’re pretty confident you’ve been successful, but I guess time will tell.”

“Congratulations,” he said with a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I’m glad you’re happy, Rose. It should be with me, I mean this me, but I suppose…” he tried to chuckle, but it came out rather pitiful. “But at least one of me is making you happy and giving you everything you desire.”

A thought came over her at that moment, one that should have made this entire discussion pretty much moot. She kept her hold on his face and looked toward him with curiosity. “Shouldn’t you already know all this, Doctor? I mean, you’ve lived it all already. The Doctor – I mean the one I’m with – he’s younger than you are.”

He didn’t release his hold on her at all. He pressed his lips together and shook his head with such small movements that it was almost undetectable. “I don’t,” he whispered. “And that’s what makes all this so incredibly painful for me. You’re with me, Rose, but you aren’t.” His eyes shifted away from her, looking across the darkness. “I have truly lost you.” His eyes levered downward. “I don’t even have the memories of us to get me through.”

She tried to back off at that point, to step back in shock, but his hold was still tight around her back, which meant she could only draw his chest away from him. There was panic in her eyes as she tried to bring his focus back on her. “Doctor. Doctor, look at me,” she demanded.

His eyes moved to hers.

“How can you tell me that you don’t remember us?” she asked urgently

“Because I don’t,” he answered simply as though the answer was simple. It wasn’t though, and he didn’t know if he’d even be able to attempt to answer it if she asked.

She tried pulling from him again, this time patting hard at his shoulders in a request for freedom. She didn’t quite know just why it was so urgent that she tore from his embrace, she just knew she had to get freedom right now. “How can you not remember any of it? We’ve been together more than seven years, Doctor. Seven years living together on Gallifrey: marriage, children, pets, a home. My God, you’ve been working as the lead surgeon in Arcadia for six of those years!”

He finally released her, and she staggered backward. “Do you despise the idea of domestication so much that you’d just forget it all?”

His eyes flashed. “You think I despise the idea?”

“Well you made that pretty clear on Krop Tor, Doctor. Couldn’t think of anything worse than being tied to a house.” She scratched her hair and then clutched fistfuls of it when she looked at him. “Terrifying, you described it as. Said you’d rather die.”

“Probably because you aren’t part of it,” he snapped. “Look, I don’t know why I don’t remember a single thing from the timeline where you and I were in a happy marriage, and if I’m being honest, if I had the chance to have that with you, right now. If you told me you wanted to leave him and take up again with me, I’d take that opportunity without a second thought, fuck the timelines...” 

“Doctor!” she yelled out with her eyed blown wide. She’d never heard him swear in actual English before. “Language!”

“Oh it isn’t like you haven’t heard me drop a curse before now,” he countered with frustration. “And I know you understand Gallifreyan, so don’t pretend that you don’t.”

He raked a hand through his hair and let out a frustrated growl. “The only thing I can think of, Rose. The _only_ thing, is that somehow, I knew … _knew_ .., that you were part of my earlier timeline, and in order to keep the timelines intact, I had to give you enough reason to run from me.” He looked past the arm over his face, the one clutching at his hair, to see her. “I left myself only enough to know that I would have to love you … and then lose you.”

“You wouldn’t have to forget me and everything we are to know that,” she countered with a pinch in her eye. “You could just go ahead and do it.”

He gave her a tired look. “Just how strong do you think I am?” His eyes pinched and the corner of his lips dropped into a grimace. “Do you honestly think that if I had that knowledge I’d be capable of willingly hurting you enough that you’d run, just so I can save a damn time line?” He stepped toward her, lowering his voice. “Remember, I’m the last of the Time Police, Rose. There’s no one left to stop me…”

“Don’t pretend to be such a moron,” she growled. “You can be a git, sometimes, Doctor. But not even you would be so foolish as to change your own personal history for something like that … for me.”

“Don’t be so fast to make that assumption, Rose,” he challenged. “I’m perfectly capable of it.”

“No you’re not,” she snapped in reply. She stalked toward him and poked his finger into his chest, pleased at the wince he gave. “Puff your chest and tell me you’re a bad boy all you want. I know you better than that. You’re the Doctor. Time’s Champion. The last of the Time Lords…” Her eyes narrowed to match the petulant look in his. “The only one left who can keep time in her place and protect all of reality.” She softened her voice and walked toward him. “You would never step away from that responsibility, and you wouldn’t do it for me, because you know I’d never let you.”

He let out a growl. “Why, Rose? Why do you have to remind me like this just why it is that I need you so damn much?” He stepped away from her and lifted an arm to point at her. “This. This is what I was telling Martha about. No matter what, you always know what to say, how to give me a sense of reason…”

“Be nicer to her, eh?”

“We’re not switching topics to Martha, Rose,” he grumbled. He walked over to the picnic table and spun to drop hard onto the bench. He dropped his head to bury it in his hands, pressing his elbows hard into his knees. “I just don’t know,” he breathed out. “And I want to remember, Rose. I want to know why. And I really need you to know just how deeply I feel for you, how much .. how much I…” he let out a huff. “But I can’t say it. I don’t know why. I just can’t. But I feel it, Rose, I feel it so much.”

She walked to him, settling herself in between his knees. She was unsurprised when he looped his arms around her waist and buried his forehead into the soft valley between her breasts. She looped her arms around his head. “Then there has to be a reason,” she offered softly. “Something we don’t know. Something that will upset all of reality if you knew.”

“Is our love that important?” he mused more to himself than to her. He exhaled and gave a nod. “I’d like to think it is.” He drew his nose up along her breastbone, sighing at her scent as he lifted his head to look up into her face. “You do know, right?”

She traced her fingertips along his temple, drawing a line down along his sideburn. She nodded slowly. “I do.”

“And if for any reason you find yourself alone, and you need me. _This_ me...”

“I’ll find you,” she whispered. 

“Promise me that,” he pleaded.

She smiled and lowered her head to his. She spoke softly against his mouth, her lips gliding against his with every word she spoke. Her words were in his tongue, and not translated by any of the three TARDISes waiting beyond the shed door. She didn’t stop speaking until he hiccupped a painful sound and tightened his hold around her back.

“I love you, Doctor,” she vowed. “All of you. And I always will.” 

“And I you,” he replied softly, knowing it was the only way he could tell her. “Always.”

She looked up and saw her husband waiting just outside the door. She gave him a nod that she was done and then lowered her gaze to the man currently wrapped around her. “It’s time to go,” she warned him gently. 

“Already?”

“Yeah, and I think someone wants to have a chat with you before he head back to Gallifrey.” She kissed the top of his head. “Good bye, Doctor,” she breathed against his hair. 

“It’s never good bye,” he said to her with a smile. “Don’t say Good bye. I don’t like good byes.”

She stepped out of his hold, taking his hands and holding onto them as long as she could while stepping back from him. “Then how this, then: If you want to see me from time to time, Doctor, just close your eyes, and I’ll be there…” 

“Corny,” he admitted with a smile, an honest smile. “But I’ll accept that.”

“Good,” she sang. She tucked her hair behind her ear and gave him a wide smile. “Do me a favour, Thete…” she winked at his smile. “Move on. Find someone brilliant and move on. Do it. Do it for me. Have a fantastic life.”

“I’ll do my best,” he said with a smile as she walked away. His smile fell when he watched her pass her husband, who touched her hand and kissed her temple before moving toward him. He sighed at his approach and looked away from him. “What do you want?”


	55. Ten and Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lads have a bit of a catch up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter half killed me. Seriously. 
> 
> Nothing I was writing over the past three days worked AT ALL. I wrote, then I dumped. Then I wrote again. Then dumped all that off as well. Seriously, it was three days of ... what the hell am I doing? I tossed out about 6,000 words of useless writing....
> 
> Ultimately I settled on this. I didn't even cannibalize a single line of dialogue, or even a word from the dumped off chapters.
> 
> That all said: I really, truly, absolutely, hope that you like this.... It took a lot out of me for sure... (and it wouldn't bloody end!)
> 
> Tomorrow will be easier ... I'm back on Gallifrey ... it's always easier on Gallifrey...

~~oooOOOooo~~

“What do I want?” The Doctor asked as he walked toward his younger self and turned to face him. His expression was one of thoughtfulness as he thrust his hands inside his trouser pockets and lifted his chin to look down at him. “First and foremost, for you not to listen to our wife’s last instruction to you. Don’t, under any circumstances, _find someone brilliant and_ _move on_.”

“I never intended on doing so.” He sniffed with a look at his hands. “I admit that I find it repugnant that you refer to Rose as _our_ wife, when it is quite clear she’s not actually mine.” He looked to his younger self with a glare of accusation. “I don’t know what you’ve done along the bond to take her from me like this, Doctor, but you’re a Woprat for doing it.” He looked away from him. “I know I’m the territorial sort. Don’t like to share my playthings with anyone.” He snapped a glare toward him. “But I never thought myself such a pitiful selfish fool as to deny _myself_ …”

“You think this is my doing?” he gaffed with insult. “Do you honestly believe I’m so low that I’d do something like that?” He scratched at his head. “Even if I knew how to tamper with a bond like that, I wouldn’t even consider anything so vile.”

“Well obviously you did,” he charged angrily. “I can’t kiss her, I have to be wary in how I hold her. Rassilon, man, if I tried to make love to her, I’d kill her.” He slapped his chest hard. “She’s supposed to be _my_ mate, _my_ bonded partner, and right now she’s anything but.”

“I really don’t know what to tell you,” he admitted along a sigh. “This is as much a shock to me as it is you.”

Ten let out a breath and scratched at his sideburn. His voice was soft. “Despite what you think of me, and how much I want to do it, I won’t wreak havock across reality to try and get her back from you.” He looked to his with a shake in his head and a pinch in his eye. “If Rose returns to me it has to be at her choice, not mine.”

“You’d take her back if she did?” he asked gently. “Came back looking for you, I mean.”

“Without a second thought,” he answered quickly. He smiled, huffed, and looked down at his knees. “But really, what can I offer her in the way of affection if she did? She left me once because of my inability to show her how much she means to me, and that was before the threat that I could literally kill her if I tried to get intimate with her. Now I’d need to wear a damn hazmat suit to protect her from my need to touch her…” he looked up toward the building across the field and let his focus hang on the orange bag rack at the door. “She won’t leave the comfort of your arms and your bed to have an unaffectionate existence with the Ice King.”

Eight gave a chuckle. “It’s the coolness of us that she hungers for,” he admitted with an almost prideful grin. Pride fell to reverence and he sighed. “As it’s her _heat_ that I crave.”

“Took a bit to get used to that,” Ten admitted with a shrug in his shoulders. “I remember after Downing street, when we first coupled…” he gave a short laugh. “Thought I’d burned the damn thing off she was so hot. Conversely, of course, she told me she thought she got frostbite down there.” He swallowed thickly. “Awkward, but ultimately … brilliant.”

Silence fell over the pair for a short moment, neither of them really comfortable with continuing with that particular line of discussion. Finally Ten let out a sigh.

“Still,” he drawled out. “Gone now. No point in dwelling on it.” He looked to his younger self. “She’s yours, now. I can’t see her wanting to return to me as I am right now.”

Eight licked at his lip to hide a gulp and took a seat on the bench beside his elder self. He lowered his head to look at his open hands much like Ten had done only moments ago. “Something tells me,’ he said with a light croak in his voice. “That her leaving me isn’t going to be by her choice…” He lifted his head to look into the sky. “But it’s going to happen.”

“What makes you think that?”

“And I’m terrified about that,” he admitted without acknowledging Ten’s question. He inhaled deeply and there was a waver in his voice. “Something’s coming, Doctor. I don’t know what…”

“I do,” he offered. He then lowered his head and gave it a light shake. “And if I know you – which I’m fairly certain I do…”

“Apparently not if you think I’m capable to ripping apart our marriage bond,” he argued lightly.

Ten held up his hand. “Point taken, but do let me finish.” He swallowed and inhaled deep, holding onto that breath for a long moment as he considered what was safe to say without having to force him to forget this conversation. “What’s coming is It’s unpleasant. Well, I say unpleasant, but what I mean to say is that it’s abject torture. A long few centuries of some of the worst heartbreak you’ll ever experience.”

He gave him a look of utter incredulity. “Well that’s made me feel _so much better_ , Doctor, thank you for that.”

He held up his hand in a dismissive gesture and curled a lip. “You get through it in one piece, never you mind.”

He stared straight ahead, unable to look at himself when he chokingly asked his next question. “And … and Rose?”

Ten lifted his brows and widened his eyes, an expression that told his younger self that he had no way of knowing the answer to that question. “I really don’t know.” He maintained that expression. “I don’t remember her or the kids being part of it. Which is, quite frankly, a relief as I wouldn’t want them to be.” His expression then fell into puzzlement. “The fact that I don’t remember that part at all is deeply concerning. Terrifying, really. I should have full knowledge of what happened to them; whether or not I got them all out safe. Rassilon. We should have left ourselves something, _anything_ , to give us some form of hope that when it was all over, she and our kids were safe in the arms of an older me, and I’d see them again.” His lips pressed together and he shook his head. There were tears in his eyes and a waver in his voice. “But there’s nothing. And that … _that’s_ terrifying.”

“Then we need to work together to work out why?” Eight said firmly. “So I can find a way to head it off…”

“Considering we’re having this conversation right now,” Ten snapped, “means that we weren’t able to.”

“So then it’s up to you to find out,” he growled in reply. “And find them. Because there is no way that I will allow them to come to harm, and if what terror your describing is on it’s way, then there is nothing in this universe that will stop me from getting them clear of it.” He huffed. “I promise you this: if Rose and the children end up apart from me for any reason, they will _not_ end up alone. Not while I’m still alive in some incarnation. Remember, they’re _your_ responsibility as much as they are _mine_.”

“Well thank you for pointing that out to me, Doctor,” he snipped facetiously. “I never – for a single moment – considered myself responsible for anything I did in a previous body, including being a husband and a father.”

Eight dropped his head into his hands and let out a long groan. “You know. This might be a very good time for us to set our grievances aside for a moment and try to work together to get this sorted out.” He lifted his head which dragged his hands down his face toward his mouth. He pivoted his hands to cradle his chin rather than cover his mouth. “I’ll go through the texts in the Capitol, see if there is any precedence at all to this.”

“I think we can safely say that there isn’t,” he cut in with a sigh and a wince. “We do typically tend to the be original case study, so to speak, for most of the texts in there.”

That made Eight chuckle. “True. Very true.”

“What do we know about marriage bonds to this point?”

Eight’s face fell into a rather dumb and whimsical smile. “That it’s simply amazing,” he said with a sigh. “More intimate than lovemaking, and better than witnessing the birth of a new galaxy…”

Ten coughed with annoyance. “Do you really think that’s an appropriate response given that the right to a bond with the woman my hearts beat for has been so cruelly denied to me?”

He shook himself. “Yes. Right. Sorry.” He cleared his throat and sat up straight in his chair. “Bonds.” His faced winced into an almost embarrassed expression. “We didn’t do all that well in our classes on the topic back at the academy,” he admitted with a shrug.

“Mostly because we never thought we’d find ourselves in a position to want to have one,” Ten replied shortly. “Figured we’d just end up in an arranged marriage, obediently donating the required TNA to loom an heir and a spare…” he shrugged. “Like the rest of our ilk.”

“Yeah,” he agreed on a breath. “So what was the point of the study?”

“Exactly,” he sighed. “But, such as all study deemed ridiculous and pointless to the masses, at some point we will actually need that knowledge for some cataclysmic reason.”

Eight slouched backward into a lean. “I may have to recruit Romana’s assistance.”

Ten scoffed. “And admit to her that she might be more knowledgeable on a topic than we are?” He slouched. “Well that’s it, then. Universal collapse. May as well just give it all up.”

“I did,” Eight said with a flat look. “Gave it all up for her – for Rose.”

“Oh you know what I mean,” he snarled. He leaned back on the bench with a long stretch of his legs, and slouched far enough that he was able to put his hands in his trouser pockets. He crossed his legs at the ankle. “If I recall the studies correctly, there really exists only one way to sever a bond…”

“Death of a spouse,” Eight agreed with a nod of his head. He pressed his lips together and shook his head, a look of distaste in his eyes. “And in this case it would indicate not only the loss of my spouse, but also of our children.” He looked to his other self. “And if that was to happen, then there’s no way I’d end up as you.” He looked back out to the front of him. “I’d simply refuse to regenerate the next time it came up.”

“Frankly, we’d never allow harm to come to any of them,” Ten affirmed with a shrug. He was still in his slouch, hands still in his pockets. “Rassilon, can you see _Rose_ allowing it to happen?” He smirked. “I can see her going all Mamma Bad Wolf if someone even thought about going after Mark.”

He nodded his head with a smile through lips that were pressed tightly together with his teeth. “You have no idea. She can seem to want to give that lad his own free reign to figure things out on his own, but she’s always got an eye on him and is ready to lever the worst kind of stormfront on anyone who even looks at him wrong.” His smile fell and he turned slightly in his seat to look to his elder self. “Speaking of Bad Wolf…”

“I’m not going there,” Ten interrupted sharply. He lowered further into his slouch, enough that he was leaning with only his shoulders on the table. “You don’t need to know about that. You’ve got a whole incarnation in between you, and the man who encountered that particular entity.”

“And if I tell you it’s already come up?”

“A man and a half from where you are,” he repeated.

He shook his head. “No, Doctor. I’ve had encounters twice already with this so called Bad Wolf entity.”

Ten straightened up. “I’m sorry, what?” He held up his hands. “No. No no no. No. Bad Wolf didn’t come up until after I’d met Rose.” His eyes narrowed and he actually found himself leaning a little bit closer to his younger self. “That’s not a power she has anymore, so…”

“Now _you_ hold on,” Eight barked out. “Power? What do you mean when you say: _power_?”

Ten’s eyes widened and his brows lifted high. He blew out a breath as he remembered the moment that Rose walked out of his TARDIS as the glowing goddess of all Time. “The power of the vortex,” he whispered more to himself than in answer to the question. He lifted his hands to look at them. “The power of time running through her. Existing across all time and space in one moment.” His brows knitted together and his shoulders shuddered. “If I wasn’t already in love with her at that moment, Doctor, I would have fallen hard at that moment and never gotten up again.”

“I don’t understand,” he stammered in reply. “How?”

Ten dropped his hands. “The how isn’t really any of your concern,” he said roughly. “But Bad Wolf was an entity that existed across all of reality for one moment…”

“The Moment,” Eight interrupted, “Was one of my encounters.”

Ten held back from snapping a terrified look at his younger self. Instead he widened his eyes on the ground at his feet. “You haven’t been near the Moment to this point,” he stated worriedly. “It’s locked away in the Omega Arsenal.”

“It was on the Dalek ship,” he corrected. “On Askola, they had the weapon left unattended in a storage room.”

Ten shook his head. “It can’t be.”

“It was,” he assured him. 

His head shaking stopped, but the look on his face suggested that he wanted to keep shaking that head with disbelief. “The only contact we have with the moment. Well. It’s only once, and it stands out as the worst day of our entire existence.” He sighed. “One that we will never forget, no matter how many years we continue to live on.’

“It was there, I’m sure it was,” Eight said quickly. “The weapon, and it’s power, it’s not something you can mistake.”

“In this case I believe that you did,” Ten offered with a shake in his head. “Because as I said, we don’t encounter it for, oh, for a few hundred years and at least one regeneration from where you are right now.”

“It exists beyond a single plane,” Eight muttered. “Where it needs to be at that moment, drawing power…”

“True.” He looked to his left, and to the man seated with worry in his features. “Tell me. Did you activate it?”

“I touched it,” he admitted quietly. “Oh, it was an accident, of course. I didn’t intend on it, but it happened.” He gulped at the pained sound emitted from the man seated to his right. “I don’t believe I activated it, although …” He sighed with a crease in his face. “I don’t know, Doctor. It sang to me.” He softly sang the song that the chorus of invisible young children sang to him that night four years ago.

Ten gasped quietly. He blinked a couple of times. His face fell into a wince. “Bad Wolf,” he breathed out.

“And of course, that’s after the initial introduction to Bad Wolf,” Eight continued. He licked at the roof of his mouth and then swallowed with a look up to the sky. “I wasn’t there. I was at the hospital pulling an emergency shift.” He let out a breath. “Rose, she was pregnant with Mark a the time. She went for a walk with the wolves, I guess headed toward the Cascades for an afternoon in the waters.”

Ten smiled at the memory of Crystal Cascades and his escapades there in his youth. The smile quickly fell. “Go on.”

“Well.” He smiled ruefully. “Our wife being the jeopardy friendly girl that she is, she witnessed a ship crash landing just off the forests.” He looked down. “Went to investigate, to see if she could help. Didn’t realise it was a Dalek craft…”

“Hold on, a what?” Ten shook his head urgently. “No, that can’t be right. The Daleks don’t arrive on Gallifrey until way into the … ehm … into your next incarnation.”

Eight flashed him a look. “They make it to Gallifrey?” He queried worriedly. “In what kind of numbers?”

“Moving on,” he peeped out with a wince. “You’ll be ready for it when it comes.”

“Uh-huh,” he managed slowly. He blinked to clear that expression of that new and deep seeded worry. “Rose was alone, and under threat by a ship of Daleks.” He closed his eyes, the video feed of the encounter flashing up into his consciousness. “She would have been exterminated,” he admitted with a wince. “If she hadn’t lit up gold and shot out an explosion that disintegrated the entire ship of them.”

“Reduced them to dust,” Ten finished quietly. 

He looked to his elder self and nodded. “You remember that?”

He shook his head. “No. No I don’t.” He winced a tight contorted expression of horror. “Bad Wolf did the same when I was the past me.” His expression lengthened. “To save me, and then ultimately kill me to save _her_.” He let out a long growl and shot to his feet, raking his hands into his hair to clutch handfuls of it. “This can’t be. It’s wrong. I took that power from her, all of it. I made myself die to save Rose from that power.” He spun in the dirt to look at his younger self. His hands were still holding at his hair. “I can’t have missed any…”

“Rose has no such power that any of us can tell,” Eight assured him. “She was in the hospital for a couple of days following that incident. I administered a multitude of tests while she was unconscious, and I couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary.” He shrugged. “Even with what we saw, I couldn’t find any elevated Artron levels at all.”

Ten nodded. “So it’s a hidden menace, then.”

“Hidden to serve a purpose,” Eight suggested. He stood up and paced slowly, his hands in his trouser pockets. “A being spread across all space and Time.” He shook his head. “Manipulating _her_ , manipulating _us_.”

“Manipulating every single move we make,” Ten breathed out almost angrily. He blew out a long growled breath. “Ohhhhhh. Well things are now becoming clear.”

Eight looked at him with a pinch in his eye. “How do you mean?”

He curled his hand in front of his face. “Think about it,” he breathed out through gritted teeth. His eyes were wide and almost wild. “Bad Wolf is Time’s pet,” the final word was almost spat out. “Sent out across all time and space in search of a host that will serve it’s purpose.” He thrust his hands into his hair and began to stalk. His voice was seething as he made his deductions. “Time has no purpose if there’s no reality in which to rule over. The Time War risked all of reality, didn’t it?” He spun to his Eighth self, who watched him with wide eyes of horror. “Oh yes, you weren’t supposed to know that, were you? Ah. Never mind, easy to make you forget that bit.” His eyes twitched. “But right now, and the manipulation of our lives, Rose’s life, to … oh …” 

“My love for our wife is not the result of any manipulation,” Eight challenged. “My love for her, _our_ love, is real.”

“Of course it is,” Ten snatched out almost impatiently. “That was never in doubt.” He spun to face him again. His head tilted down to one side and he held up a hand that he curled into a fist. “But, think about it. No Time Lord would have fallen to the actions that released the Bad Wolf from where it had been held in wait for so long. No respectable member of our class would have half the courage to do what Rose did to save us. None. Not even you nor I. But, oh, Time saw it, didn’t she? She saw the love a Time Lord had for a brave, _brave_ human, and the love she had in return for her Time Lord.” His eyes narrowed. He still spoke through his teeth. “And what lengths Rose would go to to protect and save us.”

“And in turn…”

“What lengths we would go to to protect her.” He looked angry, but was actually borderline impressed by it. “A Human is the perfect host, don’t you think? Easy to manipulate because, frankly, they don’t know any better. They can’t control it.”

Eight stalked around his elder self, watching him as he worked through the information in his mind to create a wild and quite unlikely – but probably entirely accurate – scenario. It was a terrifying thought, and he wanted to know as much as possible before he could outwardly and honestly react.

“If Bad Wolf was in my past, then the future would have known, and therefore…” He stopped dead in his tracks. His excited rambling slowed as realisation dawned. “And therefore could manipulate everything and everyone to make sure it all went the way it was supposed to go – including the actions of one to destroy another and send them away.” He dropped his hands, and his entire demeanour seemed to fall. “Not being able to love her, despite being _made_ for her,” he breathed out sadly, “was the manipulation. _Is_ the manipulation.” A tear rolled down his cheek. “She was _taken_ from me, she didn’t leave of her own free will.”

Eight dropped his head to try and make sense of all that his elder self had deduced. It made no sense, yet at the same time made absolute perfect sense – if everything he said was truly at the will of Time.

Ten looked at his younger self, and his questioning expression, and let out a long breath. “She was sent to you – specifically you – because you are the one of us most capable of falling that headlong into a love so undeniable …” He paused to growl a hiss through his teeth. “The less obnoxious, most attractive, most attentive.” He shook his head. “How could she _not_ fall in love with you? The men before you, well, aside from the blonde one who was well and truly already on his way to hearts for Tegan…”

“We were never…”

“Oh, we were as close to achieving that with Tegan as we were with Romana,” Ten corrected sharply. “I’m you, remember, don’t try and deny it.”

He nodded for Ten to continue. Which he did.

“You are also the closest to the point that it seems Bad Wolf needs to be,” he remarked with a purse in his lips. “If it’s correct that the Moment is looking to use the Bad Wolf as it’s mechanism…”

“Based on my own interaction with it, Doctor, I’m confident that’s the case.”

Ten nodded. “And so, Bad Wolf manipulated you, manipulated me, and worst of all manipulated the purest heart in the entire universe: Rose.” He looked to his younger self with pain in his eyes. “She’s making sure that Rose has everything she could ever possibly want: A home, children, the love and reverent devotion of a man who would move Heaven and Earth to ensure her safety to make sure she’s in the right place at the right time…” He actually laughed, but it was a pathetic pained sound. “Rassilon, Doctor, you even have a pair of dogs. How could Rose ever want for anything else?”

“I gave her that,” Eight argued with a shake in his hear and an angry glint in his eye. “Not this Bad Wolf thing. _I_ was the man that gave her all of that. _Me_.”

“The eternal traveller,” Ten challenged. “The man who doesn’t stop running…”

“Until I found reason to do so,” Eight growled. “And in her, I found it.” He pointed angrily toward his elder self. “And you won’t convince me otherwise, Doctor. I have no regrets, and no second thoughts. I’m happy. For the first time in all of my lives till now, I’m truly happy and content.”

“Until you aren’t,” Ten snarled. 

“What in Omega is that supposed to mean?”

Ten sniffed. “Because somewhere, you lose that happiness. Your home, your children, your wife, and even your damn pets.” He stepped toward him, poking a finger into his chest. “You spend one hundred years fighting a war that can’t be won without making the ultimate sacrifice, then end up alone – completely alone – wishing that you’d fallen in the war with the rest of them.” He laughed painfully. “The only saving grace you have is that you don’t remember what happiness you had before it all went to hell.”

Eight’s voice caught in a gasp filled with devastation. He couldn’t hold back the pain in his chest and in the back of his throat as he stifled that pesky sob that was stuck there.

Ten saw his tear as it fell from his lashes. “And then one day you end up here, having this conversation and wondering what actually happened to the ones we had all of that happiness with – if they’re still alive, if they’re alone, if they remember any of it at all…”

“That…” He gulped with horror. “That’s a terrifying thought. What has happened to them in your timeline?” He watched his elder self open his arms to shrug and shake his head in a silent answer that he didn’t know. He immediately rushed to him, gripping onto his lapels with a tight, desperate grasp. “You have to find them,” he demanded with as much sadness as urgency. “They can’t be alone, they can’t be!”

Eight snapped away from his elder self, raking his hands through his hair. He grabbed fistfuls of his chestnut curls and yanked hard as he stumbled in place, shaking his head. “Rassilon. How do I go on right now if I don’t know?”

“By giving her the best of you now,” Ten growled from his place almost ten feet away. “You don’t deny her anything. What Rose wants, Rose gets. Love her, Doctor. Love her more than you have until now, and more than all of us combined could love her. Make her know _every single day_ that she is the single most important person in your entire existence.”

His hands were still in his hair when he shot a look toward him. “What do you think I do now?” he growled. “I know what you did to her, how insecure she was at your side.” He let his hands fall from his head. “I leave no doubt in her mind how much my hearts beat for her.” He slapped at his own chest with one hand. “I am more insecure about the state of us than she will ever be.”

“Trust me,” he said vehemently. “You have nothing to be insecure about. Rose will give you more than just her heart; you’ve got her soul. I know it. I’ve felt it. She gave it to me as well and even after I stomped all over that, she was still able to fall in love with you.” He blinked a tear from his eye. “You will never understand just how jealous I am that you have that…” He looked away. “…that I just threw it away like that.”

“Find her,” Eight croaked out meekly. “Doctor, please find them.”

“Leave it with me, Doctor,” he answered with a nod. “I’ll search the entire universe, every single timeline there exists. If it takes me a thousand years and a lot of grey hair, I’ll find her.”

“And in the meantime, I’ll try and figure out just what it is that this Bad Wolf needs from her.”

“Best you don’t,” Ten breathed out with a gulp. “Your job – your _only_ job from here - is to give her all you can of you…”

“How can you say that?” he barked.

“Because what needs to happen has already happened … is _going_ to happen … and there is nothing you can – or even _should_ do – to change it.” He rubbed at his brows. “You can’t destabilise any timelines right now. Even a small ripple can make me forget it all, and I won’t know _what_ I’m searching for.”

“Then make me forget,” he ordered firmly. “All of it. This entire conversation.”

“You want me to do what?”

“Make me forget it,” he repeated. “I can live what time she and I have left together with this bomb hanging over my head.” He flicked his hand at him in a lazy gesture. “I’ll put my trust in you to start searching for her with your promise that you will hold her and our children in your hearts and never let any of them down again.” He swallowed. “Give up your life of running and settle down for as long as you need to. Ten years, twenty, the rest of your damn life.”

“Or the rest of hers,” he said sadly.

“We have a home on Gallifrey,” he advised gently. “At the Magnolia orchard under Mount Lung. As long as you’re there, and barring any accidents, she’ll live as long as you do.”

Ten blinked. Sadly, that wasn’t a possibility. He did offer a smile, though. “A home on Gallifrey…”

“Gallifrey ends up being a planet worth living on when she’s there to remind us just how beautiful it really is,” Eight said with a smile. “She won’t let you take it for granted.”

“Sounds perfect,” he breathed out.

“Oh,” he said with a frown. “It might be wise for you to work out the problem with your side of the bond, and see just how you can circumvent whatever fracture has been placed on our side that prevents you being intimate with her.” He thumbed to the shed. “The Cerulean in there claims to be an expert on the bonds, perhaps he can help you with that one.”

“That chapter are known for their eagerness to bond and claim to understand it more than the rest of us do,” he said with a shrug.

“Just be warned that he and your companion, Martha.” He huffed out almost angrily. “Despite my warnings, the two of them have initiated an imprint-bond.”

“For the love of Rassilon,” he growled. “When did that happen?”

He flicked his hand at him. “When you were being all Human and doing Humanly things,” he answered with a sniff. “I’ve been assured that it hasn’t been taken any further than – how did she put it – a damn decent snog that felt a bit like she’d gone face first into a bowl of icecream.” He grinned. “The look on his face at that descriptor actually made it worth her disobeying me and therefore forcing me to offer a good chiding for it.”

Ten snorted. “I suppose this means I’ve lost another companion to one of those prowling Gallifreyan soldiers. We really need to keep those lads away from my TARDIS.”

Eight shook his head. “No, actually. She insists that she wants to stay with you. Incidentally, so does Jack.”

“Harkness,” he replied with as much fondness as derision. “He’s going to take some getting used to again.”

“He’s a good man.” He gave a half smile. “If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have found her and Mark, and chances are we would have lost them to the family.”

“Not while I’m here,” he corrected. “It wasn’t you that came to her rescue, remember that.”

“And you’ll be running to her rescue when you leave here as well, won’t you?”

“The three of us will,” he confirmed with a nod. “I make this promise to you: If they are to be found, I’ll find them.” He thumbed at his nose. “Any chance that you could help me with remembering anything about the two of us during your time together?”

His eyes pinched. “You don’t remember, despite our conversation tonight?”

He shrugged. “All I know is that you and her are together, and happy. That we have a child, and one on the way – congratulations by the way.”

Eight smiled with pride. “Well. I only actually gave her my seed a couple of hours ago. While conception is considered a guarantee with a full ejaculate climax, I’ll wait for confirmation back on Gallifrey before I get too excited about the prospect. Although I accept your congratulations with a mighty chuffed: Oh yes!”

“Far too much information, I’ll have you know, but yes. Good for you.” He tapped his temple. “So? Memory transfer?”

He shook his head. “It’s already in there. After our last meeting, I did fill that particular void with my memories to then, although I suppose may need to plant a bit of an update as that package is four years old.”

“Then why can’t I access the memory?”

“Because I locked it,” he said simply. He then smiled. “Which works well in my favour, I suppose. The only way it can be unlocked is if our name is spoken in a voice that isn’t our own. As only Rose and Brax know that little snippet of information, and Brax prefers _Thete_ to our real name, only Rose can unlock it. Find her, get everything. Sounds like a good incentive.”

Ten looked at him with disgust. “I truly hate you.” He let out a huff and flicked his fingers with invitation for him to walk over. “Right. Let’s get this over with. I’ll remove the memories of this discussion, and you provide me with an update.”

Eight walked toward him. He paused only a foot away from him. “Promise me, Doctor. Promise me you’ll be there for them.”

“I’m insulted that you think I have to make that promise,” he gruffed with a roll in his eye. “But yes, I promise you on the tomb of our father that I will find her, and I will be there for them.” He wiggled his fingers as he lifted his hand. “Now, if you will. Contact?”

“Contact.”

Both men gasped as they severed contact at the sound of voices from the shed. They stumbled away from each other with a shake in their heads.

“Did we interrupt an important telepathic discussion?” Tom asked with a lift in the brow. His hand was in Martha’s soft grasp. Jack had hold of her hand on the other side.

“Yeah,” Ten answered with a shake in his head and a blink in his eyes. “Had to clear up a few things, eliminate a few revelations between incarnations. You know the drill.”

Eight cleared his throat behind the back of his fist. “I take it you’ve share your goodbyes with Rose, and the two of us are good to head back to Gallifrey?”

“Snogged her well and good,” Jack answered with a smirk. “She’s currently passed out on the jumpseat.”

“Knowing you in the manner by which I do,” Eight remarked with a tightening of one eye. “And in as little time as I do, I’m honestly of two minds about that. She may well could be…”

“She’s fine, Doc,” he assured him with a grin. “Sadly, all I got was a hug and a kiss on the cheek.” He sighed dramatically. “Oh for the days when I could get a toe-curling smooch out of her.”

“Never happened,” Ten argued with a roll in his eyes. “Past me would have thrown you into the vortex without a second thought.”

“Jealous I didn’t give one to him, you mean?”

“Yeah,” he drawled slowly. “That’s it.” He looked to his Eighth self. “Are we good?”

He nodded. “I don’t anticipate having to meet you again, Doctor. Not this you anyway. Do take care of yourself.”

“I will,” he said with a smirk. “Oh, and before you go. If you wouldn’t mind, I have a message for Rose.”

He turned to face him. “And that is?”

He walked forward and leaned toward his younger self’s ear. In smooth, untranslated Gallifreyan, he whispered what appeared to be a rather long and detailed message. The more he spoke, the more the look of shock and discomfort spread across the younger man’s face, until his eyes finally widened and he half shoved the other man from him.

To the side of them both, Tom’s eyes were wide and his face devoid of any colour at all.

Ten grinned and let a happy sound rumble in the back of his throat. “Did you get that?”

Eight looked at him with a draining expression. “I – I think so. Are you really sure about that?” His face creased. “I mean, _really_ sure about that. _All_ of it?”

“Oh yes.” A surprised look cross his face. “Hold on. You mean you’ve never…?”

His eyes were wide as his head shook slowly. “Ehm. No. It’s never really … oh … ehm. _Really_? Are you sure?”

“Without a doubt.” He let out a laugh. “And you had better make sure she knows it’s from me.”

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “I’m not going to make claim to that one, so the blame will be all yours.” He deflated his eyes and tipped a lazy salute to all of them with three fingers pressed to his forehead. “Anyway, I best be off. Must run and rescue my son from the spoilage that will be imposed upon him from his besotted aunt, and then the inevitable hell we shall endure when he’s handed back to us full of sugar.” He stepped back with a respectful bow. “It’s been a pleasure…” He pointed to Tom. “Except you. I’m still quite angry at you.”

“What did I tell you, Doctor,” Martha warned him. “My life, my choice, yeah?”

“Indeed,” he said with a smile. “You are a remarkable woman. I can’t wait to get the opportunity to meet you in my future.” His eyes shifted to Jack. “And you. Are something else. Thank you, for caring about her.”

“Love her, you mean,” he corrected. “And yeah. Tell that girl to keep in touch, alright?”

“Will do.” He gave a final wave and turned to walk toward the shed. Behind him he heard his elder self clap his hands and let his gathering know that they were getting something to eat and then had things they needed to discuss…

…Whatever that was, he didn’t know. Quite frankly, he didn’t care. He had his beautiful wife waiting for him in the TARDIS. They were – for now – child free … best to make a stop in the vortex and take some advantage of that.

There was a whistle on his lips as he stepped across the threshold of his machine and gave a smile to his beloved. She skipped over to him, threading her arms around his waist and purring against his chest. “So, Doctor,” she breathed out cheekily. As he threw up the dematerialisation lever.

“Yes, my Hearts?”

“Mark is with Brax and Romana,” she half sang with a light sway in her body. “So I was thinking….”

He scooped her up in his arms and laughed as he walked toward the grand staircase. “Funny that, so was I.” He gulped as her mouth latched onto his neck. “And. I have a message for you from my elder self.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “Hmmm? What’s that?”

His brows creased and he let out a strange sound. “Uh. Wait till we get upstairs…”


	56. The Domestic Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The domestic life of the Doctor and Rose on Gallifrey...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and fast fluffy one today. I think we're ready for this fic to stop procrastinating and make it's move. Rassilon, if I don't, this thing will go on forever...
> 
> I chose the snippets below for two reasons: One, people wanted to know what the message from Ten was, and so it's there in a bit of a racy first part of the chapter... And then two: Because I need a couple of fluffy bits of nonsense before the next chapter when it all goes to hell.
> 
> So anyway. This is a three-part-wade into the Domestics of Rose and the Doctor on Gallifrey. Short and hopefully sweet. Straight fluff, sorry if it isn't quite your thing...
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

~~oooOOOooo~~

The swimming inside her mind was finally subsiding after what felt like an eternity, and her hitching breath slowly levered out to normal. She gulped and tongued the roof of her mouth in an attempt to wet it again. The lock of every single one of her muscles finally gave way to have her almost flop heavily on the mattress below her.

“God,” she managed almost weakly with breath still panting in a chest that actually ached. She held a fist at her chest, her other arm still over her head, clutching at her pillow.

There was movement underneath the sheet covering her belly, and she looked downward. The sheet flipped up and the flush face of her husband appeared just over her navel, hooded by the soft pink cotton fabric.

“Not quite,” he husked back with a small smile as he used the length of his forearms either side of her to climb up the length of her body to bring himself nose to nose with her. He kept himself high atop her, not quite ready to touch skin to skin just yet, lest he be completely overwhelmed by the contact. “So… err?”

“M-Message received,” she stammered out with a swallow and an almost intimidated look up at him through her brows. “Did-Did he really tell you to do that … like that?”

He nodded. There was a somewhat unreadable expression on his face. “He was quite specific in his instructions,” he answered. “And based upon those very specific instructions, I will assume this isn’t the first time I’ve engaged in such with you … I mean in my future, of course.”

“Can we not talk about your future,” she asked softly. “Despite what you think, you’re not either of ‘em.” She lifted a hand to draw her fingers down along his jaw. “Love with you, it’s diff’rent to how it was with him … and I love what we have now as much as I loved what I had with him.” She shook her head. “We don’t need to merge the two, yeah?”

He actually exhaled a relieved breath. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that,” he admitted. “I can give you all of me, but I don’t know if I can give you any of him.” His lip twitched. “Well. Aside from adding that to the repertoire, of course. Much more enjoyable than I thought it would be.”

“So, Doctor,” she said with a light wriggle below him. “Do you need me to send a message back – or should I say forward along your timeline?” Her eyes flicked downward and then back up.

For a second his head angled to one side with question. Then his eyes widened and he shook his head. “No. Not at all necessary, and quite frankly a waste of your time,” he said with as good a shrug as he could manage while leaning on his forearms. 

She rolled her eyes. “Gee. You make it sound like I’m no good at it.”

He laughed and pushed himself up with one arm to be able to fall onto the mattress at her side. He looked toward the ceiling, lifted a knee with a wide parting of his legs, and put his hand underneath his head in a perfectly lazy slouch. “I expect you’d be very good at it, but it’s simply not as effective a means of arousal as it is with your kind.” He turned his head to look at her. “A pleasant massage, no doubt, but that’s about it. I can’t achieve climax without you, you know that.”

“You know,” she purred as she pulled the sheet to her chest with a clutch of her fist between her breasts and rolled to face him. She wriggled her shoulder to move closer to him. “We need to keep this a secret from the Human race. If the girls back home found out that they’d be guaranteed a ride into the heavens each and every time they get a shag from a Time Lord, then Gallifrey would be inundated with prowling human females.”

“They’d have to be able to achieve space travel ability first,” he remarked with a smirk.

“Don’t you think they wouldn’t suss that out in five seconds flat,” she countered with a snicker. “You’d be surprised at just how quickly the world’s greatest mysteries can be solved when they’ve got incentive like that.” Her eyes widened. “Can you imagine? The worlds greatest aerospace scientists can’t figure it out, but a hoard of frisky women left unsated by their human counterparts, rampaging into the NASA facility with their glue guns and sparkles, building a sequined shag ship with a big sign on it saying Gallifrey or Bust!”

That made him laugh. He rolled his head to look at the ceiling again. “I can actually picture that scenario perfectly, and believe it to be a wholehearted and very real possibility. But, of course, then they’d have to find themselves a Time Lord willing to...” he held up a finger. “Wait, let me get this right.” He cleared his throat and adopted the best imitation of his brother’s voice. “ _Willing to engage in the disgusting, reprehensible act of physical mating. Abhorrent practice that it is_.”

“Oh he’s all hot air and talk that one,” she scoffed. “Don’t think for a second that he and Romana aren’t..”

“Please don’t,” he barked out with an urgent wince. “I really don’t need that image torturing my quite frankly very vivid mind.” He drew a hand down his face. “It’s bad enough that I know them to be a bonded pair, but a _mated_ one?” He shook his head. “No. That’s just too much…”

“You know they are,” she continued to tease.

He huffed with a shake in his head and hauled himself up to a seat. “And on that rather indelicate note, we should head back to Gallifrey ourselves.” He turned and leaned over the edge of the bed to retrieve his pants and trousers. “We need to rescue our son from their clutches.” He lifted off the mattress to redress.

Rose rolled onto her belly and propped up on her elbows to watch him. “Hardly a rescue situation,” she corrected with a smile. She scuffled forward toward his naked butt. While he was bent forward to step into his pants, she stretched her neck to place a kiss on one cheek. She smiled at his pause. “Mark’s in very good hands, remember. And the longer they have him, the more exhausted he’ll be when we pick him up.” She pursed her lips to a pucker. “And it’s not like we get too many opportunities to be just you an’ me, what with your work at the hospital and all keeping you away from me.”

He only had one foot in his grey boxer briefs. With a kick of that foot to extricate himself from them, he spun on the other foot and face her. “That, my dear, is a very good point.” He crawled onto the bed, hovering over her once again. “Best we don’t waste it…”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Rose winced as she tried desperately to control her breathing, which was coming at her in heaved pants. Her inhales drew in quietly, but her exhales contained whimpers and moans. The Doctor was pressed up against her back, his legs parted to surround her hips. He held her against him, his lips against her shoulder huffing lightly against her skin.

“I’m with you,” he assured her gently. “I’ve got you.”

“How can you say you’ve _got_ me?” she asked with a growl. “There’s no _getting_ me right now, Doctor.”

Jackie Tyler clicked her tongue in a tut toward her daughter. “Give himself a break, Darling,” she advised sternly. “He’s doing what he can right now.” She held up her hand. “An’ I know you’re thinkin’ it aint all that much, but it’s the best he’s got, so you be nice to ‘im, okay?”

Rose glared at her mother though her brows. “I shouldn’t have to be nice, Mum. Especially not to ‘im.” She hissed through her teeth and pulled forward to attempt to lean over her knees. “He did this to me, remember.”

“Oh you did it to yourself as well,” Jackie snapped. “You let him put his bits ‘n’ bobs in ya to have this one just like you did with the other one. You’re just as much to blame for your circumstance as he is.”

“But it’s easy for him,” she whined. “He just has to sit there all not in pain…”

He breathed against her shoulder. “Don’t think that watching you go through all of this pain is easy, Rose. It’s not. It’s incredibly hurtful…”

“I’ll give you hurtful!”

A young doctor; a fresh-faced intern specifically picked for this task by the Doctor a month ago, popped her face up over the sheet that tented over Rose’s raised and parted knees. She gave the two expectant parents a smile. “When you’re ready, Lady Rose. Give me a big push.”

Rose looked half panicked as she lifted her head to look at her husband over her shoulder. “Are we really ready for this, Doctor? For another one?”

“Bit late for that question,” Jackie muttered.

The Doctor took his wife’s hand and lifted it up to curl her arm around the back of his neck. He leaned back and brought her along with him, cradling her belly with his other arm. “We’ve got this, Hearts. I promise you.”

“I’m going to hate you in a second,” she panted out desperately. “So let me tell you right now so you don’t forget. I love you.” She panted. “My heart beats for you,” she repeated in his language just to drive that point home.

“And I love you,” he confirmed, not bothering to repeat it inside his own language – it was better spoken in hers, anyway.

Rose took a deep breath and locked her arm around his neck. With an almighty cry, she bared down.

~~oooOOOOooo~~

The local news caster chatted with forced seriousness in a transmission from the Captiol. The Doctor looked up from his task on the floor in front of their television set, which took up nearly half the living room wall, to listen to the report. In between the triangle of his parted legs, a small female kicked little socked feet and babbled contentedly.

“Calm my little Cobblemouse,” he cooed almost distractedly. He had a dirty nappy in one hand, and a wet wipe in the other, one held on each of his knees. “Papa needs to hear this.”

Rose appeared at the entrance to the room, just off the kitchen. She wiped her hands on a dishtowel that was hanging over her shoulder. “What’s happening?”

“Update from the Defence Council,” he answered her. “Seems that they’re losing control over the battle near Thrizun. Not enough support from the locals to exact a proper defence strategy against the Dalek forces.”

“How far away is Thrizun?”

“About three-hundred thousand light years from here,” he said with a sigh. 

“Still a good ways from here, right?”

He nodded and then looked down at his daughter, who had rolled over and was ready to crawl her naked little dirty bottom away from him. He took hold of her ankle. “Not so fast, my little escapee,” he chided softly. He leaned forward and picked her up with his hands underneath her arms. He turned her to lay her on her back between his knees. “Not until we have some protection over that little backside of yours.” He pursed his lips. “Not making that mistake again.”

“Need me to finish up so you can watch the rest of the news?” Rose offered as she tossed the towel over the back of a chair and stepped into the room.

“Nah, I’ve got a handle on it,” he answered back with a chuckle as his daughter made bubbles with saliva on her lips. He wiped her lips with his thumb, and then wiped his thumb on his shirt. “I am the Doctor, the Oncoming Storm, the Champion of Time,” he warned his child with a mock-stern glare. “I will not be brought down by a tiny little person, as cute as she is.”

“Ha!” Rose laughed. “Alirra brings you to your knees on an hourly basis.”

“That she does” he conceded with a sigh as he gripped both of her ankles in one hand to tuck a nappy underneath her bottom. He leaned down to her as he cleaned her up. “You have considerable power over me, just like your mother does. Use that power sparingly, my little darling.”

Alirra giggled and thrust up a hand to grasp at her father’s nose. She giggled a wide mouth sound of utter joy when he crossed his eyes and let out a little peep. “Oh no! She’s got me! What am I to do now? I’m trapped!”

Rose let out a moan. “How does it take you so long to perform a task as simple as changing a nappy? Doctor, you’ve been on the floor with her for the past fifteen minutes.”

He shrugged as he gave a powder bottle a squeeze to turn her bottom white with powder – far more than was necessary. “She’s air-drying,” he explained as he finally secured the nappy around her little bottom and wrangled on the bottom half of her onesie. Once zippered up, he lifted both hands high with a half cheer. “Freedom, little Time Lady, run while you can!” His face tightened as she rolled over and began to crawl away instead. “Okay. Then crawl away while you can.”

Rose was chuckling as she walked around him and scooped up their wriggling daughter. She held her on her hip, juggling when the little one leaned around her with a pitiful whine, both hands extended toward her father, little fingers pumping. “Now now, Alirra, baby. Give Daddy a breather, yeah?” She looked to the Doctor, who was diligently putting away the items he’d used for a nappy change. “I’m going to go put her down for the night. Did you want to give Mark a hand with his homework? It’s Block Transfer Mathematics, which is out of my league, unfortunately.” She chuckled, still trying to wrangle young Alirra. “He thinks that I should probably be going to school with him because he didn’t think it’s right that he should end up smarter than I am at his age.”

He drew himself to a stand and held out his arms. “I’m holding back my rebuttal to that one,” he admitted with a wink. “Here, I’ll take the little wriggly and tell her a quick story to get her down.” He tipped his ear to the kitchen, where Mark was still at the table, his head resting on one fist as he tried to work though some problems. “Tell our little scholar to take a break. I’ll help him out when Alirra’s asleep.” He kissed her cheek. “And you. Please. Put your feet up, you’ve been non-stop all day.”

She watched him walk down the hallway, still wearing the crimson hospital scrubs he had left the house in that morning. “So have you, Thete,” she said softly. 

Her attention went back to the television as the newscaster moved back to the story of unrest just outside of Kasterborous. She leaned against the archway that led to the main hallway and gnawed on her thumbnail as she watched with growing unease settling in her belly.

“ _Despite assurances otherwise, a leaked memo from the Defence Council suggests that the Dalek fleets being held near Thrizun represent only a small number of Daleks from a much larger fleet. At the time of this report, there doesn’t yet appear to be any movement toward Kasterborous, but Council aren’t ruling out the possibility that the Daleks may soon move into the outer reaches of the Kasterborean Constellation, and are monitoring all movements._

_This could lead to confirmation of the translated prophesies of the Ancient Pythian texts predicting a universal battle for time, which has long been foretold as being: The Great Time War._

_Requests for comment from the Office of the Lady President, and the Defence Council have gone unanswered. Stay tuned for further information. Remember, Avrilinipia, your first source for news coverage for Gallifrey.”_

Rose’s breath shuddered out of her as she watched the coverage of potential war shift toward Sports, and the results of the Hyper-Grav Ball tournament being held at Arcadia.

“Mum?”

Rose looked to her side, and to the floppy brown hair of her eldest child. At the age of seven, he now stood as tall as her waist. “What’s up, Sweetheart?”

He pushed his hair from his eyes with a sweep of his hand. “Are we going to war with the Daleks?”

Rose frowned and dropped into a crouch to bring her to a much better level to talk to her child. “Why would you ask that?”

“It’s on the news, and I heard the lecturers taking about it at school,” he said with a worried crease in his brow. “Said that this would be the war to end all wars.” He looked panicked for a moment. “Does that mean Dad will have to go and fight? I don’t want him to go fight.”

“Oh baby,” she cooed as she pulled him into her arms and let him stumble against her. “Don’t you worry about your father. I’ve known him for a long time, I even know his future incarnations…”

“But, they’re saying it’s been foretold by the Pythians?” He shuddered. “The war to end all wars.”

She let him go to look up into his face. “They’re just trying to sensationalise a story,” she assured him. “They did that all the time on Earth when I lived there, too. Do you know how many _war to end all wars_ , and world ending crises they talked about?” She smiled assuringly. “The Earth was supposed to be destroyed about ten times before I turned 18. I’m still here. Earth is still there. We’re okay.” She smoothed his hair with both hands. “And your Daddy will be okay, I promise you. So will Auntie Romana and Uncle Brax, and me and Alirra…”

“And Tiallu and Soliarn?”

The Doctor crouched down beside Rose and put a hand on his son's arm. “All of us, Mark. Nothing for you to worry yourself over. Even if the Daleks tried to get anywhere near Gallifrey,” he added. “It’ll be at least a couple of centuries from now, so don’t you concern yourself like this.” 

“Thanks Dad,” Mark gushed out. He threw his arms around his father’s neck and breathed relieved breaths against his neck. He looked to his mother. “And Mum. You’re both in my hearts.”

“You too, baby,” Rose said with a pet on his head as she drew herself to a stand. She looked down to the Doctor. “I’ll call the school tomorrow and have a word with the office about their staff taking more care about what they say within earshot of the kids.”

“No,” he huffed angrily. “Let me do it instead, please.” He tilted his head at her, his eyes pinching with analysis at her unusually discomforted posture. “Hearts? Are you alright?”

The single most dangerous question to ask a woman who was barely holding it together. The horror that the Time War was on approach was dawning in an horrific manner. She bit at her lip and fought back her emotions. With short movements of her head she nodded and pointed to the hallway. “Just gimme a minute, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he drawled on a whisper, his concern for her evident. “Go. I’ve got him. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“I’m okay,” she managed out. “Just … yeah… I’m good. I just need to have a shower, that’s all.”

“Right.”

Rose spun and walked briskly toward their bedroom. She walked straight through toward their ensuite bathroom. She quickly closed the door behind her, snicked the lock, and covered her mouth with a hand as she moved to the shower to turn on the water. With the steam billowing up from the floor toward her face, she lifted both hands to cover her mouth. She hoped beyond hope that it would stifle the sound of her sob as she collapsed into a seat on the edge of the tub. She held at her belly with one arm and her mouth with the other and leaned forward, rocking herself through her own horror of what was to come.

It felt like hours, but it must’ve only been a handful of minutes before she heard the jiggle of his hand on the door handle. A second later she heard the buzz of his sonic screwdriver and the lock open under its command. The door opened and his head curled worriedly around the door.

“Oh my hearts,” he breathed out when he saw her on the edge of the tub. He quickly stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. “What’s wrong?”

She looked up at him, with both arms now holding her belly, with utter devastation in her eyes. She shook her head, her mouth gaping for words to say.

He didn’t let her try and tell him she was fine, or try and blame her upset on hormones or any such nonsense. He fell to his knees and pulled her by the arm to have her fall onto his lap. He drew her arms around his neck and held them there with a gentle hold of her upper arms. “Don’t shut me out, Rose,” he ordered gently. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m scared,” she admitted finally. There was a break in her voice. “I’m just scared.”

“Of the Daleks?” he asked with a pinch in his eyes.

She nodded.

“Unless there’s something you know that the rest of us don’t…” he began, not quite ending that thought just in case she wanted to tell him otherwise. The stillness in her frame worried him. “You don’t, do you?”

She shook her head, unable to speak.

“Then you have nothing to be scared of,” he told her in the same firm tone of vehemence that he’d used with their son. “Even if they could get here, Rose, it’s a long way off – centuries.”

“You could get there in seconds,” she argued. “With the TARDIS.”

“They don’t have TARDISes,” he reminded her. “And as far as I know, they haven’t developed dematerialisation sequences to manage a journey like that.” He tipped her chin upward with the crook of his finger. “I haven’t seen you this upset since the day we met, Rose. Are you sure you don’t know something that you aren’t telling me?” His face hardened. “Is something going to happen? Do I need to get you and the kids free of here?”

She shook her head – tempting thought it was. “No, Doctor. I don’t have anything to tell you.” Gee, it disgusted her how easy it was to lie to him about this. “We never really talked about Gallifrey, or your life before you met me.” She shrugged. “So no. I don’t know anything.”

“Then why are you so upset?”

“I don’t want them sending you there,” she managed finally. “I don’t want them to take you from us to go and head up some wild fancy of theirs that it just takes you showin’ up all Oncoming Storm to get rid of them all.” She cleared her throat with a cough. “The Daleks, I mean. I – I don’t want them sending you into battle.”

“You say that like I’d let them,” he countered with a smile. “I’ve no intention of being drawn into any battle – not when we have battle fleets here on Gallifrey and across Kasterborous.”

“You let them when Mark was born,” she reminded him. “Nearly lost you then…”

“And I learned my lesson,” he promised her. “I’m not leaving you and the kids because Romana or Brax tells me Council want to send me in there. I’ll leave Gallifrey with all of you before I answer a call like that.”

“Promise me,” she whispered firmly.

“I vow to you,” he promised fiercely. Nose to nose, together they breathed hard breaths against the other. The Doctor finally spoke after a long and silent minute. “I know this is where I pick you up, take you to bed, and affirm my love for you for the rest of the evening and into tomorrow.” He blew out a somewhat disappointed breath. “But I do have our son waiting in the kitchen for me to teach him the basics of Block Transfer Mathematics…”

“Nothing basic about it,” she added with a light laugh.

“So if you’re willing to give me an hour or so to sit with Mark and help with his homework, then we can pick this up again after he’s gone to bed.” He kissed her lightly on the lips, drawing it out just a bit longer than chaste. “Is that okay?”

“Go to him,” she urged. “I can wait.”

“Glad _you_ can,” he countered with a laugh. “Not too sure about my ability hold that much patience.” He stood, picking her up along with him. He set her feet on the ground and kissed her again, this time full of promise of what was to come later. He left her breathless and swaying in place and walked to the door, pausing just short of exiting with a smile. “My hearts, Rose, they beat for you.”

“I love you too.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Within the dome of the Capitol, inside a large vault in Omega’s Arsenal, a once dormant metal box, with gilded golden gears and marked with language of the people of Gallifrey, whirred quietly to life. It shuddered in its place, alone in the darkness.

A whisper of a song in the language of the people of another planet whispered sang out quietly.

“Who’s afraid of the big, bad wolf….”


	57. The Capitol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Family head to the Capitol for a day-trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where you can feel my procrastination to get to where I need to get to in this fic... It's tough, because I'm not sure I want to do it anymore... I have to, no doubt about it, but I am more tiptoeing around it right now.
> 
> Please enjoy this offering ... I do hope that I can get the next bit up later this afternoon. It really depends on how well my fingers move across the keyboard. Wish me luck, I'll be listening to some really soppy 90's songstresses to get me through it. :) Got any suggestions? I've lined up Celine Dion and Mariah Carey so far ... and I'm truly not a fan of either of them, so double tough pour moi.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this wee snippet....
> 
> Oh, and if you have a problem with breast feeding and descriptions of, then you might want to avoid this chapter...

~~oooOOOooo~~

It was a rare time when the family Lungbarrow would all leave the house together and venture to the Capitol for a day-visit. Rarer, still, when their two furbabies were allowed to join them, but Council were opening a leash-free park for the residents and their animal companions, and they’d all been invited for the grand opening.

Quite exciting, really. Well. Exciting for a stay-at-home mother who really didn’t get out beyond the local markets all that much at any rate. Rose was quite excited in making sure that the kids were bathed and dressed in their finest casual gear. She ensured the same of her two beloved Dahramas, making sure they were washed, brushed, and clean…

…Much to their chagrin, of course. They self-groomed. They didn’t much like being stuck in a bath and scrubbed with sweet-smelling soaps. At least Soliarn wasn’t all that impressed. Tiallu did seem to take to the pampering a little more than was considered acceptable for a large white wolf. Her mate made sure to show admonishment for her enjoyment toward being pampered with a lift in his nose, a gruff, and then walking away when she came to him with a proud walk around as though to ask: “How do I look?”

“Oh darling,” Rose cooed as she petted the head of her disappointed wolf. “I think you look beautiful. Don’t you mind his indignant macho self. It’s not often that a bloke gets as excited about the results of a pampering like we expect them to.” She leaned down. “They can get pretty ignorant over it…”

The Doctor sighed from the doorway. “That’s because we always think you look beautiful,” he remarked in support of Soliarn. “And we don’t understand why you think that you have to get all coiffed and made up to impress us.”

Rose pulled herself up straight and gave him a shrug. “It’s more for us than for you,” she admitted. “We want you to notice, that’s all. Sometimes you blokes forget to tell us how beautiful we are.”

He kissed her cheek. “I think you’re very beautiful,” he offered her. “And never moreso than when you’re completely bared to me, without all of the coverings of clothing and makeup…”

“You mean naked,” she huffed out with a shake of her head. “That’s just your hormones talking at that point, Doctor.” She pointed to his groin. “When that’s in control, you could put a potato sack on me and still think it’s an amazin’ sight.”

He scratched at his head. His mouth dipped in a bit of a frown of disagreement. “Actually. No. Not Human, remember. That _thing_ is never in control of my thoughts and behaviours..” he lifted a brow. “Although that does lend a question or two about when your own hormones take over and just how…”

“Nope!” she interrupted. “Not heading into any conversation like that right now.”

“Well it is curious,” he ventured with genuine interest. “Despite being mated with a Human for the best part of a decade, I’ve truly never completely delved inside the sexual hormonal effect of Humans toward their mate, and the apparent blinding effect the rush of hormones provide…”

“Just making it up as you go along, then,” she said with a sigh and a roll in her eye. “No intel, no plan, just running with it.”

“Seems to have worked till now,” he answered with a shrug. “And I do tend to be more successful at a task when I go in without a plan.”

She moaned dramatically. “How positively soul-warming is it to know that you consider lovemaking a task…”

“I never said that,” he countered with a small smirk. “I’d put it as a rather exciting endeavour.” His eyes flared happily. “Oh! Much like putting together a handy little device when I’m out in the field…”

“You compare it to tinkering?” she gasped. She shook her head with a smile and walked by him, giving him a little bump on the shoulder with hers. “Tinkering with electronics, tinkering with your human, yeah, makes sense. Of course it does.”

He captured her from behind with a chuckle in her ear as his arms shifted around her belly. He swayed them lightly together in a songless dance. “I don’t _tinker_ ,” he assured her with a graze of his lips against her ear. “I excitedly pull together the knowledge I gather in the moment – many times new and wonderful discoveries – to create the perfect means by which to perform to the very best of my ability.”

She chuckled. “You’re so full of it, you know.”

“One of my endearing qualities, wouldn’t you say?”

“It’s a _quality_ ,” she agreed. “Dunno that I’d call it an _endearing_ one.” She lowered her hands to his forearms and noticed he had red velvet draped over them. “Hold on,” she remarked with curiosity as she stepped out of his arms and gestured toward the thick fabric. “What’s this?”

“Ahhh,” he breathed out with a slight measure of distaste. “Robes of the Prydonian Order.” He held up two such items. “As the invitees of the President, you and I are required to wear them. Rather droll and pompous formality, really, but Romana did insist.”

Rose ran her hands over the fabric and let out a breath of admiration. Her fingertips traced over the embroidered gold edging. “They’re beautiful,’ she breathed. “So soft.” Her eyes lifted. “These are ours? To Keep?”

He nodded and circled his finger over a series of embroidered circles. “This denotes our bond – signifying us as mates – and this, our chapterhouse affiliation.” He opened one up and put it over her shoulders. “There are other meanings to the texts bordering the robe, but it’s more about how great and mighty the Prydonian order is, and means nothing more than just being pomp and circumstance.” He smoothed it over her shoulders as she slipped her arms into the sleeves and gave her a smile. “Now you look like a real Lady of Time.”

“Shame I’m not really one,” she said with a sigh.

“You are to me, and to those that matter,” he cooed with a kiss at her temple. “In all the ways that matter.”

She turned and raised her arms over his neck. “I love you,” she breathed out with a shudder as his arms slipped underneath the robe to circle her waist. “My heart couldn’t beat without you holding it like you do.”

He captured her lips in a searing kiss that affirmed his own feelings toward her. He pulled back before it could move any more forward and breathed a somewhat disappointed breath against her mouth. “We should go before I say to Hell with it and take you to back to bed instead…”

“With the kids waiting for us in the living room and all,” she teased softly.

“Yeah,’ he drawled. “Put a bit of a damper on spontaneity, don’t they?”

She petted his chest lightly with both hands and lifted her eyes to his. “Best hope that we tucker them out today, yeah? Get ‘em both down early and have some fun with these robes of ours.”

He watched her leave the room with his brows down low over his eyes with puzzlement. “Just what kind’ve fun do you think we can have with them?”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Although it was in the middle of what looked like a hot and arid desert, the interior of the crystal dome that covered the Capitol was really quite comfortable. Of course, with thick velvet robes being a requirement for many of the Time Lords and Ladies that worked within the dome, they’d have to do some serious climate control for them to survive it. Even with the artificial cool breeze that blew through the halls, she was warm underneath her own robe. She wondered how the Doctor was faring as he walked close to her side. His own robe bore a high sweeping cowl that sat on his shoulders with an arcing fan that sat as a halo to the back of his head. There was a gilded helmet he was required to wear as well, although at the moment, he had it seated on the sunscreen that covered their daughter’s stroller. Alirra wasn’t in her stroller, of course. She hated the damn thing and threw a rather impressive tantrum about it until she was finally settled on her father’s hip happily bouncing and babbling away.

“She gets that from you, you know,” the Doctor said with a chuckle as they strode the crystal-covered walkway toward the park. 

“I’m sorry? Get’s what from me?”

“The endless chatter. Always wanting her daddy’s undivided attention toward whatever topic pops up in her mind.” he answered with a chuckle as Alirra suddenly discovered she could play peek-a-boo with his robe. “Yes, peek-a-boo, my little darling.” He looked back to Rose. “Now I can see why you’re so exhausted at the end of the day.”

“She only does that with you,” Rose answered with a chuckle as she swept her finger along Alirra’s forehead to sweep away her blonde hair from her eyes. “With Mark and me, she’s less likely to chatter on nonsensically like that.”

“Right about that,” Mark offered with a shrug. He walked with his hands in his trouser pockets and his head down as though slightly uncomfortable about being around so many adults at one time. “Usually she’s all papa papa papa, I want papa. Where’s papa?”

The Doctor looked up from his game of peek-a-boo with Alirra. His brows were high at that revelation. “Really? You’ve never mentioned that before.”

Rose shrugged. “No point in it, really. This one’s a daddy’s girl without a doubt.”

“But she should be a mummy’s girl as well,” he countered with a frown. The frown fell to lengthened into play expression of surprise when he looked back down at a peek-a-boo from his little girl. “Hello darling, there you are!”

“Wouldn’t worry about it,” Rose offered with a smile toward their play. “I’ve got my little mama’s boy in Mark, Don’t I little buddy?”

Mark took her hand and gave her a toothy grin. “Yep!”

The Doctor looked down at his daughter. “But you love your mum just as much as you do your papa, right, little cobblemouse?”

Alirra blinked quickly at him. She then leaned around him and reached out for her mother with both hands. There was an urgent sound in her whimpering and the Doctor was quick to hand her over. He grinned as he took control of the stroller from Rose. “See?” he chirped out proudly. “A mama _and_ a papa girl!”

Rose chuckled at the urgent hands of her little girl pawing at her shirt. “Yeah, when she wants a feed she’s mine alright.”

“Ahh,” he drawled. His head tipped side to side. “But with Daddy she only gets snuggles, cuddles, endless playtime, and bed time stories – all of which she also gets with her Mum. With mum, however, she gets life sustaining nutrition. You’re one up on me, my hearts.”

Rose winced with discomfort at the child pawing at her chest and the inevitable swell and letdown of milk in her breasts. “Yeah, but only till she’s weaned, Thete. After that, she’s going to be all about Daddy, you just wait and see.”

He frowned at his wife’s urgent discomfort. “We need to find you somewhere to sit.” He looked around at the corridor, seeing nothing around them to assist in a feed. “Do you think she can wait a few more minutes. Once we get to the park and sign in so to speak, then we can find you both somewhere comfortable.”

Rose shook her head. “Neither her nor I can wait,” she admitted. “Since she started teething, Alirra’s been grazing rather than taking a full feed. She barely suckled for two minutes this morning before we left the house.” She looked up at him with a wince. “And the lack of a full feed is affecting us both.”

“Urgent, then,” he breathed out worriedly. “How are we going to manage this?”

Rose tucked Alirra in under her robe as she shifted herself as discretely as possible to allow her child to at least start to feed and release the heavy painful pressure in her breast. She let out a sound of relief and looked toward a corridor to their left. “We’ll head down there for now and I’ll find a spot to sit. Go ahead to the park, we’ll meet you there in a few minutes, okay?”

“I’d rather not leave you alone,” he admitted. He pulled his pocket watch from his waistcoat pocket and frowned. “Low on time, though.”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Leave Mark and the fur kids with me, and I’ll be perfectly safe.” She nodded urgently toward the end of the walkway. “Head on up, I’ll meet you there. Give my apologies to Romana and Brax for being late.”

He kissed her brow, and then the side of her mouth. ‘I’m sure they’ll understand. Go make sure our daughter’s fed, and I’ll see you shortly.” He peeked into Rose’s robe, smiling at the sight of his little girl latched happily to her mother’s breast. “Get your fill, darling,” he cooed with a drop of his head to kiss her little blonde head.

Mark chuckled. “If only the two of you could see how that looks from here.” He looked around him with a smirk. “And the looks you’re getting from everyone.”

The Doctor closed Rose’s robe and rubbed his son’s head. “Little devil,” he accused lovingly. “Don’t you start thinking for a moment that I care anything about what this pompous lot thinks.” He increased the volume of his voice just slightly in a somewhat passive aggressive chiding toward those judging him. “The nutrition and sustenance of a small child is far more important than the judging minds of others. The true beauty of nature in the love and care of a mother toward her child.”

“Doctor,” Rose warned softly.

“They should show reverence toward you,” he said with a sniff. “Not judgement.”

“I really don’t think they are,” she said softly. “Probably more curious than judgmental.” She tipped her head to the corridor. ”But, I gotto go sit down.”

He handed off the stroller to his son. “I leave your mother in your protective hands, Mark. Keep her and your sister safe.”

“You got it, Dad,” he assured him with a smile. “You go and represent the family.”

He kissed his son’s head and then leaned in to kiss Rose on the cheek. “See you soon, Hearts.” He spun and walked away with a wave to his small family.

“Doctor,” Rose called out. “I-Io – I love you,” she said in a manner of urgency when he turned around.

He offered her a strange look, one of pinched eyes and a curious dip in his brows. “My hearts beat for you as well, Rose. Always. Forever.” He stepped forward with worry in his expression. “Are you okay?”

She winced, but nodded with a tilt of her chin downward. “Nursing,” she said with a shrug. “Always makes me all, you know. Emotional.”

He smiled, blew her a kiss, then turned and started to jog toward the park.

Rose watched him run, his robe billowing out behind him like a cape. She let out a sigh of appreciation at the way the other robe-wearing Lords and Ladies parted quickly to get out of his way, and his skipps and waves of apology to each and every one of them. God, she loved that man…

Mark walked at her side with the stroller pushing in front of him. “You okay, Mum?” he asked curiously. “Feeding stinky there doesn’t usually get you all mushy like that.”

She didn’t want to admit that a sudden feeling of dread was settling inside her shoulders and belly. Instead she changed her hold on her daughter for comfort and led them down a long and darkened corridor in search of a seat. She was thankful for the presence of her two wolves, such was the eeriness of this new path. “I’m fine, Sweetheart,” she assured him. “I just don’t like being here without your dad, that’s all.”

“Tell me about it,” he agreed with a huff and a curl in his lip. He didn’t like this place at all. “Too many people trying to make themselves look bigger and more important than they really are.”

“For a Seven year old to make that observation,” she remarked. “Is really saying something. I reckon your dad will agree with you on that.”

Rose was beginning to wonder if they’d installed any seating at all in this place. She had to stop in the corridor and juggle Alirra to switch to the other breast before they’d found anything to sit on. She winced as she helped her child latch, and then covered up her damp, but definitely relieved other breast. Feeding while standing and walking was not a particularly pleasurable bonding experience for her. 

“I really need to sit down,” she huffed.

“I can’t find a seat, mum,” Mark said with sympathy. “But maybe if we put your robe down, you can sit on the floor?”

“I’m close to doing just that,” she agreed. Her breath hitched and a smile of relief to see an open door at the end of the hallway that led into a darkened room. Toward the wall, she could make out the shape of a chair. “Oh thank the stars,” she breathed out with relief. She pointed out the chair to her son. “Mark, in through here.”

He looked around with a crease of concern in his brow. “I dunno, Mum. Are you sure we’re allowed in here? Looks kind’ve dark and do-not-enterish.”

“I need to sit down,” she huffed out. “My legs are about to give. Tiallu and Soliarn will keep watch.”

“But it’s dark.”

Rose took a seat and properly shifted Alirra to a move comfortable position. She let out a long sigh of relief. “God, that feels better.” She petted her other knee. “Come here, Mark. If you’re scared, come sit with me, I’ll protect you.”

He walked to her, but didn’t seat himself on her knee. Instead he stood at her side and curled his arms around her neck. “I’m not scared,” he assured her. “I’m the Doctor’s son, I’m brave.”

“He gets scared too,” Rose said softly. “More often that you think he does.”

“Does he?”

She nodded. “Of course he does. But you know what?”

“What?”

She ran her thumb over his cheek. “Even the bravest people get scared from time to time. They have to, because you can’t be brave if you don’t get scared here and there. Being brave is being scared but still doing what you need to do to succeed despite your fears.”

“Really?”

“Mmhmm,” she hummed in reply. She looked down as her daughter started to stir, shaking her little head against Rose’s breast to let her mother know she was finished feeding. “Oop, okay Alirra,” she cooed as she released her from the robe and held her up with the intent to give her a quick burp. She didn’t need to hold her daughter at her shoulder, because the little one opened her mouth wide and let out a loud, long, milk-smelling burp into her mothers face. 

“Said the queen!” Mark cheered to his sister with a fist pump in the air. “That was awesome, Lirr.”

“You are not being a positive influence,” Rose warned her son as she covered herself and then leaned forward to settle her now sleepy child into the stroller.

“I think I was being very positive,” he disagreed. “I was very supportive of her.”

“True,” Rose sang. “Guess I can’t argue that one.” She looked up, and then sat backward, feeling the exhaustion of having nursed her daughter in the manner she had. She held Mark’s arm, that was still curled around her neck. “Let’s just sit a minute,” she requested. “Then we’ll go find your dad.”

“Sound like a …” His words cut abruptly at the snarl of Tiallu in the darkness ahead of them. “What the? Tiallu?”

Rose held onto her son’s arm just that little bit tighter as Soliarn stepped into the shadow and let out a growl of his own. Although dark, it wasn’t pitch black, and she could see the outlines of her wolves stalking a circle around a box in the centre of the room.

“What’s there?” she asked her wolves wit deep concern in her voice. She looked around, them, seeing nothing. Of course, that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything to be concerned about. She petted Mark’s arm. “Come on, Sweetheart. It’s probably best we go catch up with your Dad, yeah?”

He nodded urgently as the prowling and snarling of the two wolves increased. “Yeah, Mum. Good idea. Let’s get Dad.”

She nodded and quickly stood up. She leaned down and snapped closed the clips of Alirra’s stroller to keep the sleepy child in place. “Time to go.”

“What’s the hurry?” her own voice asked her from behind.

Rose stilled immediately. Beside her Mark gasped, both hands flying to his mouth to cover it. His eyes were wide with terror. Rose quickly stepped in front of him, her hand held back on his chest to keep him in place behind her. “Who’s there?”

Her wolves were no longer snarling with threat. Now they paced a wide circle with their heads obediently held downward in a submissive posture. In the centre of that circle an amber blob began to rise. It shifted and morphed a twisting and turning motion until it finally lengthened and stretched out into the form of a woman…

…A woman identical to Rose Tyler herself. “Oh it’s about time,” The woman said with a sigh of relief. She then gave Rose a smile and a wave with her fingers held up at her face. “Hello Rose.”

“Who-Who are you?” Rose stammered out, battling to find any courage at all when faced with the image of herself.

The woman tilted her head with a wide smile that stretched across her cheeks. “I’m Rose Tyler,” she answered. She then stopped, shook her head and frowned. “No. That’s not right. I’m not Rose, I’m someone else.” She slouched. “But who? Oh. Oh!” her grin returned. “That’s right. I’m the wolf,” she said with cheer in her voice. “The wolf. Wolf…” Her smile fell again. “Oh, but which one?”

Tiallu gave a yap, and the woman looked up, all humour and confusion gone from her expression. Now she looked upon Rose with a glowing expression of warning. “I’m the Bad Wolf…”


	58. The Parting of Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad Wolf does her thing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, you were all expecting this ..... I make no apologies ....
> 
> This one took it out of me ... I'm spent ... I'm going to go have a Moscow Mule and look out the window wondering just when the animals will be let back out into the wild... 
> 
> I really truly hope you enjoy ... this is a longer than normal chapter ... With the weekend upon us, I might not be able to get another one up before Monday, but I will try my very best!!
> 
> Thanks again to everyone who comments, you are wonderful! Comments do make my isolation a little bit better, so don't be shy, reach out!!

~~oooOOOooo~~

The figure that stood before her was dressed in ripped clothing of white and brown that looked no more than rags simply thrown together into an outfit. Her hair hung with loose waves and curls that fell below her shoulders. The dark kohl that surrounded eyes that glowed amber were more reminiscent of her time back on Earth than how Rose Tyler applied makeup today.

Rose made a more determined effort to keep Mark behind her. She could feet the fright within her son in the way he clutched at her leg. “Why do you look like me?” She managed after a moment, speaking in Earth English in the hope that the other version of her would switch as well. She had a feeling that she wouldn’t want her children to hear and understand this conversation.

“Oh, this is a form chosen specifically for him,” the Bad Wolf answered her without hesitation, and within the language chosen by Rose. She drew her hands down long her body and looked down. “I look lovely, no?”

“For who?” Rose asked. “Who did you choose that form for?”

Bad Wolf chuckled and tilted her head at Rose in a disappointed manner. “Who else?” she answered with a shrug. “The Doctor.”

“W-Why?” she stammered with worry. “What’dya want from him?” She hesitated and then decided against asking just what was supposed to happen to her and the children.

“What do I want from the Doctor?” she asked herself. Her full lips pursed outward and she seemed to consider that question for a second. The pout pulled back and she smiled. She started to walk around in a circle as though stretching legs that hadn’t been worked for a while. “For him to become what he needs to be.”

“And you need to look like me to do that?”

Bad Wolf turned to look at her. She shrugged. “No, I really don’t.” She paused to reconsider. “But then again, yes I think I do.” She pressed her finger to her lip in thought. “A face from his past, and into his future…” She hummed to herself. “Yes. A necessary form to take on, I suppose, if he’s to trust you when you meet in his future.” She sighed with a shrug. “We exist, you and me, across all space and all time, across all of reality.” She looked back up. “And I need you to, Rose Tyler. To exist, that is. Well, exist till this point, anyway. Oh, but I need you in the future as well…” Her eyes widened and she blew out a breath. “Oh but the tenses are a mess with you and me, and him and you aren’t they?”

“You’re not making any sense,” Rose challenged.

Bad Wolf chuckled. “What part of life with him does?” she asked. “Such a beautiful and difficult man, our Doctor, isn’t he?”

“Mental,” Rose added with her own shrug, hoping that stalling for time would give him time to find her. God, where was he when she needed him?

“Mental,” Bad Wolf repeated softly. She analysed the word a moment and then laughed. “Well, yes. I suppose it is very mental. How _have_ you managed to survive the life you both lead with your mind intact?”

“I do okay,” she answered with a sniff. “And if you know my Doctor, then you also know that he’s not going to be fooled into thinkin’ you’re me.”

Bad Wolf gave her a long stare of silence for a moment. She hummed a small tune that ghosted the air around the room. Finally she shook her head. “My intention isn’t for him to think that I’m _you_ ,” she clarified with a smile. “Not at all, really. When he and I meet again, he won’t even remember that you exist, so trying to make him believe that I’m you is a rather pointless and unnecessary endeavour.”

Rose gasped in deeply. “I’m sorry, what?”

Bad Wolf’s eyes widened. “Oh, was I not clear?” She stepped toward her, lifting her skirts and then feet high to clear the top of the box as she passed over it. “When the Doctor and I finally meet, he will never have heard of Rose Tyler, won’t even know that he was ever a husband and a father..” she rolled her eyes and tipped her head side to side. “Well, aside from the arranged one he had back in his very early days. Have to leave him with that one, of course. He didn’t become who he is without having pain like that in his past to have him leave Gallifrey in the first place.” She let out a breath and twirled a hand in the air beside her. “Keep some things, lose others, have to pick and choose what works for me I suppose. I better get those decisions right, hadn’t I?” 

Rose half expected her to try and bump shoulders with her and share a laugh. Instead, however, the woman merely walked around them. Rose moved as well, taking care to keep Mark and the stroller behind her.

“How do you intend on doing that?” she asked her mirror image. “Make him forget, I mean. You make it sound like it’s an easy thing to do, but it won’t be. The Doctor’s not going to let you take anything away from him, least of all me and the kids.”

Bad Wolf stopped walking. “But I already have,” she reminded her. “You’ve seen it for yourself, haven’t you?”

Rose looked down to the floor with wide eyes.

“You remember, don’t you?” Bad Wolf asked her with surprising gentleness. “Two Doctors older than the one you’re with now, none of them remembering that you existed in their timeline before the explosion in that store on Earth.” She smiled with almost juvenile excitement. She opened her arms and twirled on the spot. “Oh, you remember that, don’t you? You should. That’s where he took your hand and told you to run with him.” She then swooned. “Run. The three-letter word that started the love story of the Doctor and his Rose.”

Rose lifted her eyes to the entity. “Yeah,” she managed on a whisper.

“A brilliant part of engineering on my part if I do say so myself,” she sang as she exhaled a relieved breath and put her hand onto her chest as though calming her heart. “Oh the movements I had to make to ensure he ended up there at the right time..” She pointed to Rose. “And _you_ , as well. My goodness, but you were a trial to attempt to orchestrate a life for. First old Jimmy threatened to destroy the timelines by taking you from London. Nearly killed you that last night, didn’t he?” Her eyes were wide as she blew out a breath. “It took effort and manipulation of a timeline or two, but I got rid of him, didn’t I? Aaand, then had to counter off the new boyfriend getting in the way as well. Bloody difficult, too, I might add. Especially my work with the Pinstriped being somewhat too effective. For a minute there it looked like he might push you into the opposite direction I needed you to go.” She laughed and snapped her fingers. “Parallel Universe gingerbread house solved that problem! Bye Bye Rickey! A perfectly choreographed orchestra there. Or is that a dance? Not quite sure about that.”

Rose looked horribly confused. “What?”

She flicked her hand to dismiss the entire conversation, although she did keep talking. She slapped the back of her hand against her other palm. “My needs are very specific. It has to be Rose Tyler: his lover in his past, to become his desperate and devoted lover in his future, and then the heartbroken one who runs back into his past…” She exhaled an almost exhausted breath. “Circle, circle, circle. Complicated even for the likes of me.” She huffed. “ _Humans_. And I thought Time Lords were the difficult ones to reign in.” She turned and gave Rose a wide grin. “But it all worked out in the end, and here we are: You and me, first joined as one, now parted into two.” Her eyes were wide. “And now that you’re here, and I’m here, I suppose I really don’t need you anymore.” Her expression fell toward sympathy. “And neither does he. Not now anyway. No. He won’t need you until he chooses to need me, and even then it’s only a metaphorical need; a conscience on his shoulder whispering in his ear kind of need… until it isn’t, of course, at which time he will need you because I will need you.” She smiled. “It’s really quite spirally the relationship between you, me, and the Doctor, isn’t it? _Exciting_.”

“You may need to pull out a pack of crayons if you expect me to keep up,” Rose said with a snarl.

“You’re not stupid,” Bad Wolf snapped. “So stop pretending you are. You are following what I’m saying with far more clarity and understanding that you’re trying to let on.” She looked to the doorway. “Stalling for time, you are. Waiting for him to come and save his little family.” She looked back to Rose and smiled. “Which he will, of course. Well _try_ to at any rate. So foolishly and desperately in love, that man. So scared to lose you.” She exhaled a whimper. “Such a shame he has to.”

“Why does he have to?” Rose asked with rising panic. “Can’t we remain who we are and do what you need him to do, anyway?”

“Nope,” she popped much like the Tenth Doctor would have done. “Can’t happen I’m afraid.”

“Why not?”

Bad Wolf walked toward her, stopping mere feet ahead of her. “Because in his future exists a whole life time without you where you don’t live in his hearts _or_ his mind.” She chuckled out low with almost lustful admiration. “And, oh, _what_ he is without you to try and make him a better man. So rough, so determined, filled with so much anger … a warrior of the likes this universe has never seen.” 

Rose watched this woman smile and shudder at the mental image. She shook her head at her, lifting her chin indignantly. “No. You’re wrong. That’s not him. He’s not got it in him to be like that – with or without me.”

Bad Wolf hummed. “Which is why you can’t be with him.” She huffed and lifted her chin to the ceiling. “You’re a calming influence for the Doctor. Even if he didn’t know you, and you were just a tiny speck in his peripheral, that tiny presence of you is enough to tame the beast – so to speak.” She looked down and shook her head. “That’s one of the only things I can’t work against. Love. There’s no power in the universe greater than that.”

“But you did,” Rose countered softly. “With the one I left. Pinstripes. You ended what we had…”

“Manipulated it,” Bad Wolf corrected with a lift of her finger. “Much different to defeating it. And even then it was the man, not the emotion, that I toyed with.” Her eyes widened. “And he certainly did make it difficult for me to do, such are the depths of his feelings toward you.” She blinked rapidly to shake her sudden melancholy. “but anyway, that’s all rather irrelevant right now.”

“To _you_ , maybe.”

She flicked up a finger of warning. “So to answer your original question, Rose. You can’t exist in his mind and hearts in any form for the next half millenia, because if you did, he would never become what he needs to be in order to do what needs to be done.”

“And what needs to be done?” Rose asked with a shaking voice. She could feel Mark’s terror behind her, hidden behind her robe. She could also hear him fumble with a phone in his hand trying to reach his father. Good boy that he was.

“They need to be saved,” she answered simply.

“Who needs saving?” Rose asked, wondering why it would be that the Doctor would be expected to give up everything to save anyone? He did that on a regular basis. “Who?”

“All of them,” Bad Wolf answered softly. “Everyone. Gallifrey. The Time Lords. The Universe and all of her children.” She tilted her head to one side and pinched her eyes with accusation toward her. “With you at his side, the Doctor would never become what he’s needed to become in order to save them all.”

“Yes he would,” Rose vowed fiercely. “He would do what needed to be done to save them all. Of course he would. That’s who he is! You don’t need to tear us away from him for him to do it.”

She shook her head. “The things he needs to do, Rose? No. No, he wouldn’t. I know this because, Rose, _you_ wouldn’t let him do that. And knowing you wouldn’t allow it, he wouldn’t let himself do it either. Especially not if it meant leaving you and his children to get it done, or risking your lives to do it.” She paused a moment to let out a breath. Her voice quietened. “And he certainly wouldn’t remain here when the Time War begins in earnest on Gallifrey.”

Rose inhaled deeply as everything started to come together. “So the war _is_ coming, then?” she spoke softly with a wince of pain on her face. “And it’s much closer than he thinks it is.”

“Not really,” she offered. “It’s still a ways off, really. But as I said, the Doctor has a whole life to live and things that he needs to do, which you and the children aren’t part of.” She smiled apologetically. “And that life for him begins today, Rose.”

“And so what happens to us?” she asked with a brave lift in her head. She didn’t bother to hide the tear that rolled down her cheek, nor did she wipe at it. “Are you going to erase us from existence?”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because I know you’re capable of it,” she answered with only a slight waver in her voice. “Because together we did it to the Daleks to end the war.”

She nodded and looked down at her hands. They glowed and seemed to blur as she moved them side to side. “When you gave me life,” she said with a nod. “You allowed me to spread my words and my will across time and space – warnings, manipulations, and a message so that the circle of our lives would continue.” She lifted her eyes. “You gave me the ability to save him, to guide his next movements to make sure that you ran to Gallifrey…”

“To keep that loop intact,” Rose said with a slow nod. Her head remained low, but her eyes lifted. “So. How about us? Do we cease to exist today?”

“You gave me life,” Bad Wolf said softly. There was a genuine softness in her voice. “It would be wrong of me to take yours.” She looked to Rose’s hip. “Certainly wrong to take theirs, such is their innocence in this affair” She looked disgusted by the prospect. “And honestly, removing all of you from existence will serve me no purpose, Rose.”

“But you’ll remove us from his?”

She nodded. “I’m left with no choice in the matter, really. If I’m to help him, and he _will_ seek out my help, then he needs to be _that_ man. The one he is right now wouldn’t even consider it.” She looked around them and started to walk again. This time she walked to the chairs and with a huff she flopped heavily down, leaning back and crossing her legs at the knee. She cupped her hands together on top of her knee. “The rules for my activation are very specific.”

“Rules set by whom?” Rose asked with a backward walk that took her, the stroller, and Mark a few safer steps away from her. “And just what are you?”

“The rules were set by me,” she answered with a shrug. “As for what I am, well. I’m a weapon, Rose. A weapon created by this Society.” She let her eyes dance around the room. “But Time Lords being the self righteous fools that they are, they made my circuits far to intricate. Much like their travel Capsules, I became sentient. Which makes me a weapon with a conscience.” She shrugged and smiled. “How exciting. None like me out in the universe.”

“Have you been introduced to the Human Race?”

“I hear a measure of distaste in that question,” Bad Wolf replied with a smile. She held up her fingers ready to give them a snap. “A race I can eliminate if I so desire with a click of these. Want me to?”

“Do that,” Rose challenged, “and you lose me.”

“Glad to see you’re catching on.” She sat up with a stretch in her back and looked to the doorway. “The Doctor. He’ll be here soon,” she announced. “Your son’s message got through, and he’s on his way.” She shuddered. “Oh I can feel his anger from here … such strong emotions in that one, let me tell you.” Her eyes pinched and she spoke wistfully. “So unlike any other member of his species.”

Rose looked to the door, desperation in her eyes.

Bad Wolf shook her head. “He can’t help you through this,” she warned. “This one – it’s on you and you alone.”

Rose flicked her head back to the entity. “How do you mean?”

She slumped again against the back of the chair. “Well. The Doctor’s unfortunate action of activating my circuits back when he was on Askola.” Her eyes flicked to Mark. “Right after the little one was born kicking and screaming into the world, I believe. My how you’ve grown.” 

“Leave my son out of this,” Rose growled as she stepped forward and held him behind her. “You talk to me, and only me. You don’t even _look_ at him or my little girl.”

She held up her hands and smiled. “Warning noted.” Her hands dropped and once again she sat up straight. “Back to your husband. He fell upon me that day. All it took was a touch…” She lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers. “And I saw across his timeline. I saw all that is, all that was, and all that could be. In that timeline, I saw the war between the Time Lords and the Daleks. I saw the devastation that rampaged across the universe. I saw reality torn apart and obliterated, I saw the death of Gallifrey, I saw its survival. I saw the destruction of the universe, and I also saw its survival.” She stood up and stretched tall. “In all of those scenarios, Rose, I also saw a man. One man. A single solitary man who was an integral part of it all.”

“The Doctor,” Rose said softly.

Bad Wolf nodded. “In every scenario, Rose, the Doctor was there in one incarnation or other.” She rubbed her hands down along her hips. “Across the far reaches of his timeline, inside the many branches of decisions waiting to be made in his future, I saw what was coming and what needed to be done.” She held out her arms either side if her, leaning one way and then to the other. “With you. Without you.” She flicked the fingers of her right hand. “This side shows the timeline without you there and the outcome at the hand of Time’s warrior.” She then flexed the fingers of her left hand. “This branch, holds the devoted husband and father, the influence of his wife and children, and that impact they have on the final outcome.”

“Not good, I’m guessin’,” she whimpered.

“No.” She sighed. “And for what it’s worth, Rose, I am sorry that it needs to come to this.” She looked at Mark’s green eyes glistening with fear behind his mother’s hip. “They need their father.” 

“So do I,” Rose said with a whimper. She looked imploringly at the Bad Wolf entity. “Are you sure there’s no other way around this?”

Bad Wolf shook her head. “None.” She sighed. “You have to have known this has been coming, Rose. The signs have all been there.”

Rose swallowed thickly. She nodded and lowered her head. “I know. I just hoped that maybe…”

“This is a fixed point,” Bad Wolf warned softly. “It has to happen. The fate of the entire universe hangs on this.”

“Great,’ Rose huffed out. “Just brilliant.”

“But if it does give you any kind of comfort at all, I will offer you the choice.”

Rose had to laugh, and the sound of it was almost painful. “What choice? You’re tellin’ me this is a fixed point in time. There is no _choice_.”

“There’s always the choice.” She held up both hands, tilting one down. “You can agree and let me remove you and your children from his hearts and his minds – thereby saving the universe.” She tilted in the other direction. “Or you can tell me to sod off, I’ll simply vanish back into oblivion never to be heard from again, and the entire universe goes…” She splayed her fingers behind her head and flared her eyes, “…boom.”

“Don’t play daft with me,” she snapped back. “Choice my arse. I made the wrong choice on a fixed point once, nearly destroyed reality by doin’ it. So no, ta. Learned my lesson.”

Bad Wolf shrugged and inhaled a breath. She walked toward the pair of now quiet wolves. She petted Soliarn on his head. “Well. Rules are rules, Rose. I won’t make the choice for you, I can’t do that.” She nodded to her. “That’s really on you.”

“I’m really beginnin’ to hate the universe,” Rose muttered.

Bad Wolf didn’t look up, she kept her eyes on the wolf as she petted his head. “I agree with you, believe it or not. It really isn’t far that the one who stands to suffer most because of the Doctor’s little accident back on Askola is you and not him.” She shrugged. “Oh, I can make him think that Gallifrey was destroyed at his hand – and I very likely will.” She looked to Rose. “I can’t quite recall that bit – I must’ve blinked when I got to that part of the timeline. Did I have him believe that? You know: That he’s the last of them?”

“Bit more thank a blink if you missed _that_ ,” Rose snapped. “Pretty much his calling card with his future selves. Last of the Time Lords and all…”

“Ahh,” she breathed out, tapping at her lip with her fingertip. “Yes. I’ll have to remember that, then. Must be an important piece of the puzzle.” She smiled with what looked like relief. “So glad, then, that we could have this chat. Otherwise, wow, I might have made a rather glaring error.”

Rose had a grimace on her face and shook her head. “What? How can you be so nonchalant about this?”

Bad Wolf tapped at her temple. “Must’ve gotten a bit of your Humanness when you helped create me, Rose Tyler.” She chuckled. “Not so big up here, are you?” She stopped and blinked with a gasp. “I mean your _kind_ , of course, not just _you_ specifically. Your mind is rather special by comparison.”

“Not sure if that’s a compliment or not.”

“It is,” she said with a sigh. “For what it’s worth right now, anyway.” She shrugged and walked toward her box. She spun on her toe and dropped down to a seat atop it. “We’re running out of time now, Rose. You really need to make a decision and make it quickly. Preferably before he gets here and his presence makes you sway toward the wrong one.”

She could hear heavy footfalls bounding down the corridor and snatched her head to look toward the door. “Doctor…”

“Yes,” Bad Wolf breathed with a nod. “He’s here. We’re out of time. So, make your decision, Rose.”

“What decision?” she asked sharply. “What decision am I really expected to make here?” 

“For Gallifrey to survive, or for Gallifrey to burn,” she snapped in reply. “If Gallifrey burns, Rose, the Daleks will continue to move across the universe destroying it planet by planet, galaxy by galaxy until there’s nothing left. If Gallifrey survives, the Daleks destroy themselves.”

“But,” Rose cut in with sharply. “Gallifrey burned. It’s already happened.”

“You haven’t been listening to a word I’m saying, have you?” she said with impatience. “I _said_ I will make him _believe_ Gallifrey burned.” She extended her legs and leaned back o her hands. “Right now, who aside from you and me what _really_ happened.” She looked to the still empty doorway. “Not him. Not them. None of that lot up in the council chambers even know what’s coming.” Her eyes moved back to Rose and she exhaled to lower the tone of her voice. “Because I’ll tell you right now that if they did, they’d make the decision for you – and they’d be a lot less kind about it that I’m being.”

Her eyes snapped toward the pair of wolves as they both growled and leapt to a stand. “Kids?” she asked timidly as they both stalked to the doorway and leaned back on their haunches. Both animals had their shackles raised high and their fur shimmered light blue in the darkness.

The Doctor skidded around the corner and made it three steps into the room before having to stumble as many steps backwards to escape the snarling, snapping teeth of his two wolves. 

“What in Rassilon?” He looked up urgently toward his wife – wives - one dressed in Prydonian robes, the other in rags. A look of confusion and panic crossed his face. Every step he tried to make forward was thrown backward by snarling, aggressive teeth. “Rose? What’s going on?”

“Papa!” Mark cried out loudly, wanting to run to his father, but wanting to keep Alirra well protected behind him at the same time.

“Mark,” Rose hissed out, finding strength in his presence. Surely, the Doctor could stop all this. “Quickly! Get Alirra, go to your father.”

“He will not!” Bad Wolf warned. She raised her arm, which lifted a glimmering see-through wall between them and the Doctor. “This has gone on quite long enough. Make your decision, Rose.” Her other arm shot up in the opposite direction, drawing a circle against the other wall. It quickly hummed, crackled, snapped, and then split open.

Through the centre of the circle Rose could see a quiet English street, and a row of townhomes all packed closely together. She shot her look back to Bad Wolf. “What. What is that?”

“Your way home,” she answered simply. “I’m giving you the path to go home, Rose Tyler. You and the children, and even your wolves if you’d like them to.” She nodded to the Doctor, who now pounded at the wall with the butts of both of his fists demanding entrance. “He stays here, forgets you, forgets your entire life together, and moves along the path he is destined to follow.” She looked back at Rose. “Without you in his life Gallifrey survives the war.”

The pounding at the wall ceased, and in its place was the collective gasps of two of the people she loved most in the entire universe. She lifted her head again, tears falling down her cheeks. “And if I say no?”

“Then the entire universe is at risk, not just Gallifrey,” she answered. She looked at the Doctor, flanked by his brother, both of them looking on with horror. “Reality won’t survive the war.” She looked back at Rose. “And neither will he. Or you.” She looked toward the children. “Or them.”

Rose swallowed thickly around a ball of emotion that was stuck inside her throat. “So for Gallifrey to survive – he … he and I can’t.” She closed her eyes. “At least not as a family?” she asked, wincing when the Doctor immediately launched into a rather violent litany against the wall begging her not to make any such decision. 

“But you _will_ survive,” she offered. She then looked to the wall, and to the half-blurred figure of the Doctor throwing himself at the wall in an attempt to break the barrier. “As long as he does his part, of course, everyone will.” She looked back to Rose. “Then when the war is won, the two of you can meet in a department store basement, and the cycle can begin anew.”

“Will I ever see him again?”

“The expanse of all space and time is wide,” she answered. “The chance that the two of you could meet again is so very small.” She stepped up to her side, both of them side by side watching as the Doctor fought with his all to break the barrier. “You can’t seek him out, though, Rose. Pinstripes has a timeline critical to this, which you can’t be part of. You won’t know when it’s safe, so don’t even try.”

She walked toward the wall and held out a hand to touch it, laying her palm flat against it. “And you promise me he won’t remember anything, yeah? That he’s not going to feel the pain of our loss?”

The Doctor stopped throwing himself at the monitor. He walked to the wall and lifted his hand to touch where hers lay. “Don’t do this,” he begged sadly. “Please, Rose.”

She flicked her eyes to Braxiatel, who stood silently behind his brother. She could see in his eyes the Time Lord, who would – as the Bad Wolf said – make sure that she came to the decision that would better serve the Time Lords than anyone such as her. She gave him a small nod, and then looked to her husband. “What choice do I have, Doctor?”

His lip curled and the only reason he didn’t punch again at the wall was because he was trying so hard to feel her touch with his palm. “Together, Rose,” he demanded. “Whatever this thing is telling you to do is a lie. A trick.”

“It’s not,” Bad Wolf said against her ear. “You know it’s not.”

“I love you,” she said through the wall, finishing that thought with a soft recital of his Gallifreyan name. “I have to do it. Gallifrey is more important that I am.”

“No it’s not,” he growled back petulantly. “Not more than you and the kids.”

She shushed hum gently. “Goodbye, Doctor. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Please don’t do this,” he begged almost pitifully. “Don’t leave me. I need you.”

His tears almost broke her completely, but she held on to whatever little strength she had left to lean forward and press her forehead against the wall. “I need you, too, Doctor.” 

He stopped struggling and leaned forward to press his forehead against the wall where hers lay. He locked his eyes on hers. “I’ll find you,” he vowed fiercely with a hiss between his teeth. “I promise you that. No matter where in the universe you are, I’ll rip it all apart and find you.”

“You do that,” she whispered. “We’ll be waiting for you.”

His eyes flashed to where the raggy image of his wife stood to her side. “Not even you’re powerful enough to stop me. There’s no power in the universe that can.”

“Oh you’d be surprised,” Bad Wolf answered with a sniff. She stumbled when the young brown head of the Doctor’s son squeezed in between she and Rose. His sister was on his hip. “Oh my,” she breathed out as she took a step back. “Yes, I suppose you should have the chance to say goodbye to him. Go ahead, then.”

Mark set Alirra down on the floor and walked to the wall. He took her hand and helped her to walk to their father. There was confusion and fear in his eyes when he lifted his hand and pressed it to the wall. He looked at the yellow glow beneath where his hand touched the wall. “Dad? Why are you behind a wall?” He looked up to his father. Watching his movements as the Time Lord on the other side lowered into a crouch and held up his hand to reach out to his child.

“Hey my little Time Lord,” he cooed with as little waver in his voice that he could. “So I hear you and your mum are going on a little trip.”

“Are we?” He looked up to his mother with a puzzled look. “Mum?”

She put her hand on his head. “Daddy’s got some work to do at the hospital,” she said sadly in reply. “So we’re going to take a holiday. An adventure. You love a good adventure, right?”

He nodded and looked back to his father, pressing both hands against the glass. Beside him, Alirra did the same, except the little girl pressed a set of lips, covered in the salivery goo that came with teething, against the glass to kiss her father. She kept her lips against the wall, speaking against it. 

“Papa papa papa…” Her eyes widened as she blew against the wall and her cheeks puffed up. She fell backward with hysteric giggles, then quickly scuffled back to do it again and again, pealing out with laughter each time.

The Doctor looked up at Rose with devastation in his eyes. “I can’t,” he breathed out. “I just can’t.” He slowly slid his hands up the wall to draw himself to a stand. “Don’t go,” he whispered desperately against the glass as he touched his forehead to it again. “Please.”

Bad Wolf stepped forward and touched Rose on the arm. “It’s time, Rose.” She looked toward the doorway. “It won’t be long until the rest of them arrive, and really, the fewer that know my existence, the better.” She looked toward Braxiatel, who was standing silent. “Time Lord, I don’t need to tell you that breaking silence on this to spread warning will threaten not only yourself and your precious world, but also the universe itself.”

Braxiatel gave a firm nod of his head, but he said nothing at all.

Rose scooped up her daughter and held her on her hip, bravely trying to excitedly tell her that they were going to go on an amazing trip together. She looked to her distraught husband and blinked free a tear. She spoke to him of her love and devotion inside his language, letting him know with no room for doubt that her heart beat for him, and him alone.

“Wait for me,” he pleaded in reply. “Because I promise you, Rose. I _promise_ I’m already on my way to you.”

She nodded and dropped her hand to take her son’s hand in hers. “C’mon, Mark,” she said with a sigh. “Want to see Mummy’s world again? I’m thinking England, this time.”

“Can we visit Nanna Jackie?” he asked excitedly with a bounce in his step.

“Of course we can, baby.”

He turned back with a smile and a wave at his father. “Bye Dad, see you soon!” He waved to the wolves, both of whom rushed toward the spinning hole between Gallifrey and Earth. “Tiallu, Soliar, Come on!”

“In my hearts,” the Doctor called back desperately through the wall. “All of you. You’re in my hearts.”

“Not for much longer,” Bad Wolf corrected behind Rose and the children as they walked into the gaping hole in reality. “Say goodbye,” she advised him, waving her hand to drop the wall that stood between them.

Immediately, the Doctor burst through, launching into a run toward his young family. As her feet stepped onto the green grass of London, Rose turned quickly at his yell. She was ready to leap forth and back toward him, but was held back by her pair of wolves, who stood silently between them. They weren’t in any way aggressive, but they had become an impenetrable wall of blue-white fur. “Doctor!” she called back desperately.

“I’m coming!” he called, thrusting his arms sideways to push the Bad Wolf out if his way. 

She spun and held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks. His back arched as he stumbled forward onto his knees with a cry.

Rose watched with horror as her image walked up behind him and slapped both her hands either side of his head, holding him firm in her grasp. “Look away,” she snarled toward Rose. “He’s no longer your concern.” She lowered her head, grit her teeth, and spread her fingers to completely cover his face and head.

The Doctor let out an horrific cry, his eyes locked on those of his wife. He managed to get out one more cry that affirmed his love for her before the tear of reality between them slammed shut. She swore she could hear the sound of a zipper in the air around them right before the Doctor’s cries were shut off and they were left in relative silence, the only sound around them the chirping of birds and the rev of a jet engine above their heads from a passing airliner.

Rose curled arounds the shuddering little bundle of pink in her arms and dropped down onto her knees. She wanted to sob, and to wail, but knew doing that would further upset her children. Instead she panted hard and heavy to try and push that despair away.

“Mum,” Mark asked worriedly at her side as he dropped to his knees at her side. “Mum, what happened? Is Dad okay?”

She put an arm over his shoulder and pulled him close to her. She kissed his temple. “He’s okay, baby,’ she tried to assure him. “He’s just playing a game, that’s all.”

“Didn’t look like a game to me,” he said with a sniff. “He was hurting, Mum.”

“He’s just sad he’s not coming with us,” she tried with a soft look toward him. “But he’ll be here, soon.” The two wolves nosed at her knees. There was apology in their nuzzling and a whimper in their breaths. “Couple of turncoats you are,’ she murmured as she scratched Tiallu’s ears.

“So where do we go from here?” Mark asked. He wasn’t completely stupid. He knew that whatever had just happened wasn’t supposed to happen. They had no change of clothes, no nappies for his sister, and no TARDIS to take them home.

“I don’t know,” she admitted with a glance toward him. She leaned forward to lean her forehead against his temple. “But we’ll work it out baby.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

The Doctor’s cries rang out loudly inside the small room. It wasn’t simply a cry of pain. The sound that exploded from between his parted lips was a cry of such utter despair and heartbreak, that Braxiatel could feel the burn inside his own chest. He stood inside the doorway of the room, watching with horror as the Bad Wolf tore the memory of Rose and the children from the Doctor’s mind. And he had no doubt at all that’s what was happening to Thete right now. Many time’s he’d borne witness to such punishments levered toward those who would harm time’s path with negligent and dangerous behaviours.

…Rassilon, he’d handed down such sentences on others in the past.

He turned his head to one side, trying to shield out the cries from his brother. “I’ll remember then for you,” he vowed under his breath. “I promise you, Brother, they won’t be alone.”

At the end of the hallway, he saw the fast arrival of his own beloved wife. When she caught sight of him, he held up his hand, ordering her to stop, and that what was happening here wasn’t for her eyes. He was thankful that she did as he ordered, and came to a complete halt in the corridor. She held back her three Chancellery Guard escorts.

It felt like an eternity, but in a moment, Thete’s cries stopped. He looked toward him as he heard the thump of his unconscious body fall to the floor.

“There,” the Bad Wolf said as she rubbed her hands together with a slap. “That should do it.” She stopped to think about it, and then rolled her eyes and leaned down again, pressing her hand in between his hearts. “Almost forgot,” she admitted with a look toward Braxiatel. “And what a foolish thing to forget, as well.” She closed her hand into a fist and slowly rose to a stand. As she lifted her fist from the Doctor’s chest, a trail of glittering blue light followed the movement of her hand. The Doctor’s chest rose with it, but only so far as to keep his shoulders back on the floor. Bad Wolf tugged at the light, and then threw her arm backward. “Cursed bonds,” she snarled through her teeth. “Always complicate things, don’t they?”

With a final grunt, the glittering light dissipated, and the Bad Wolf Stumbled backward as though being released from a tether. “That about does it,” she exclaimed. She set her hands on her hips and looked down at the Doctor. There was a lift in her brow and a shake in her head. “I truly am sorry, Doctor.”

Her eyes shifted to Braxiatel in the doorway. “You can feel it, can’t you?” she smiled when he attempted to look at her innocently. “The fixed point,” she clarified.

He gave her a nod. “Yes. I can.” He let out a breath. “I’m sure all of Gallifrey can feel it.”

“The sensitive ones at any rate,” she said with a shrug. “I expect that you can also feel that this point isn’t just a single moment in time, but spans over multiple centuries.” She looked to the wall, where a spluttering rip in reality once was. “Her part in it is over.” She looked back to the floor, and the man laying on it. “His. Well. He’s got a long way to go until his part’s over.”

“I see.”

“You had better,” she warned. “You cannot tell him about her. You can’t bring them up. You can’t let him _deviate_ in any way from the path he has to take from here.”

“Why don’t you just make me forget,” he queried with a tic in his eye.

Bad Wolf looked back toward the wall. “Because they’re going to need someone.” She looked back at him. “And for more than just support and the needs that come with child rearing.”

“You need me to stop her from looking for him.”

She nodded. “She can’t. And your job as a Time Lord is to protect the fixed points that surround us.”

“Can she ever…?” he didn’t even want to finish that sentence.

“When Gallifrey is safe,” she began with a shrug. “And the Time War is won, then perhaps. But not until then. He’s got a very long path ahead, and she’s not part of it.”

“I understand.”

“You had better,” she warned. “Because the whole of reality depends on your ability to keep the timelines stable.”

She stretched and then let out a breath. “Time for me to go, be dormant again for a few hundred years.” She gave him a wink. “Good bye for now, dear Time Lord. Oh! Any chance you can put me somewhere with a little more light? It’s terribly depressing being locked up in the dark like this.”

He closed his eyes to blink with incredulity at her request. When they opened again, she was gone, and the room was completely silent. He looked left, then right, then twirled to see if he could find any sight of her. All he saw was shadow and a small wooden box in the middle of the room.

He rushed forward, his brother’s name exploding from his mouth, as he dropped to his knees at his side. “Thete! Thete! Wake up.”

The Doctor stirred with a moan, but didn’t open his eyes. “Ugh, Brax? Is that you?”

He slapped his brother’s face with the backs of his fingers. “Come on, Thete. Wake up, man.”

The Doctor swatted his hand away, annoyance clear in his expression as he lifted his hand to his head and winced. “What in the name of Rassilon did I get up to last night?” He looked at his brother through squinted eyes. “For you to be here, it can’t have been good.”

Braxiatel helped his brother sit up, holding a hand at his back. “What is it you remember, brother?”

He sniffed and leaned forward, scratching at his head with a hard rake of his nails. “Not much,” he admitted with a slap of his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “Where am I, anyway?”

“The Capitol,” he answered.

The Doctor’s head shot up, a look of _what the hell_ on his face. “I’m on Gallifrey? What in the name of Rassilon am I doing on _Gallifrey_?” He looked down at the robe he was wearing. His brows lifted high. “And what am I doing wearing this?”

Braxiatel pursed his lips. “I think Rose told you to wear it,’ he ventured, wondering just how he’d respond to that name.

“Rose?” he said with a worried expression. “Who’s Rose, and why would she be telling me what to wear?” He narrowed his eyes at his brother, hoping for a little more clarification on just who this Rose person was – he didn’t know anyone called Rose. “Is she anyone _interesting_?”

“Rose?” Braxiatel asked before shaking his head with a smile. “Oh! Romana,” Braxiatel corrected with a rather uncharacteristic roll in his eye. “Sorry about that. I meant Romana. Not Rose.”

“Ahh,” the Doctor drawled. He rose to a stand and brushed off his thighs, dropping the robe off his shoulders to leave it in a heap on the ground. “Well thank you for rescuing me from whatever trouble I just got myself into. But I really must be off.” 

“Where to?” 

He looked around him with a curl in his lip. “Anywhere but Gallifrey,” he breathed out with disdain. “Anywhere but here.” He looked back at his brother. “So? You’ll have to help me out a little. I seem to have forgotten … but where’d I leave the TARDIS?”


	59. Exiled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where do they go from here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I waited three days for this???
> 
> Yup, I anticipate that feeling toward this chapter. A filler? Yes it is. Before I can move on, I had to get Rose and the spawns settled. Sooooo ..... this is a short one explaining that. Now we can move on.
> 
> I would say enjoy, but I'm not entirely sure this can be called an enjoyable chapter. 
> 
> Hoping to have more up later today.... Fingers crossed!

~~oooOOOooo~~

The small group of Rose, Mark, Alirra and the wolves was remarkably quiet given their heart-wrenching experience. Despite having lost their home and the Doctor, there weren’t any painful sobs or wails amongst them. Rose knew she couldn’t dissolve in the manner that she wanted to. She couldn’t. She could feel her son’s confusion and terror at her side, and her daughter’s confusion against her bosom. Both of them needed to draw strength from her, so falling apart was the absolute last thing she should do…

…But she really didn’t know what else _to_ do. She and her young children were effectively abandoned and exiled from their home. They had no money, nowhere to stay, and pretty much no hope at all. She lifted her head to the sky, all clouded over and grey, and let out a long and shaking breath.

God. What were they going to do?

“Mum,” Mark said with a shiver. He was dressed in only a light tunic and trousers, with leather sandals on his feet – not at all appropriate for what she felt was a late Autumn day in London. “It’s cold.”

She winced. Of course they were. Gallifrey was never cold nor rainy. The skies were always clear and bright. Neither of her beautiful children had ever experienced a cool day, let alone a cold one. She opened up her robe and wrapped it around his legs. “Come here,” she cooed softly as she waited for him to crouch and snuggle in. “This should warm you up.”

He did as she asked, and pulled the robe around him. His chilly little body, his internal temperature the same as his father’s, nestled up against her own warm body, and he let out an almost contented sigh. “Dad’s not coming, is he?”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because I’ve got a big old Time Lord brain,” he answered with a huff. “And I’m not dumb. The lady that looked like you – she wasn’t letting him come with us.”

She kissed his head and spoke against his hair. “Your dad won’t let anyone stop him,” she whispered. “It might take a while, but your dad will come.”

“And what do we do until then?”

Rose sighed. “I don’t know, Mark. I really don’t.” She cupped his head with the back of her hand and gently coaxed him to look up at her. “But whatever we do, we’ll do it together, yeah? The family Lungbarrow … brilliant, we are.”

“Yep,” he popped out as a shadow fell over their huddle. “We are.”

Romana’s voice sounded almost ethereally behind them. “And they always look after their own.”

Mark was immediately out of his mother’s robe. He ran with open arms toward his aunt, and slammed into her for a hug, almost climbing her legs in the process. “Aunty Romana!”

She nestled her head against his and let out a long purr of relief. “Words can’t express how happy I am that we were able to find you,” she breathed out. Her eyes shifted to Rose, who had slowly risen to a stand, her young daughter tucked safely underneath the robe. “Rose. I know this is a sorely stupid question of me to ask you as your state is quite obvious, but I will ask anyway: Are you okay?”

Rose shook her head and strode three steps forward to come within quiet conversational distance. “Not really unless you can tell me that the Doctor sent you and you’re here to take us home.”

“I’m sorry,” she answered with a shake of her head. “Brax and I can’t even find him, let alone have worked with him to do that.”

Her eyes widened and she felt a pit form inside her chest. “You can’t?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. She gently lowered Mark to the grass at her feet. “The Doctor left almost immediately after you did,” she said gently. She noted the hopeful look in Rose’s eyes and shook her head. “I’m very sorry, Rose. Brax…” she let out a breath. “Brax told me that he doesn’t have any memory of you and the children. He left because that’s what he does …”

“Run,” Rose completed with a sad yet knowing nod of her head. She inhaled shakily and lifted her head to put on as much of a brave face as she could. “Because he needs to run.”

There was a moment of silence between them. Rose trying to keep her cadence unbroken, and Romana simply stroking the head of a confused boy trying to maintain his own strength in the face of heartache.

Finally Rose let out a breath. “I don’t know where to go from here,” she admitted worriedly. 

“You shouldn’t need to worry about that,” Romana offered with a smile. “Brax and I have been working to make sure that you and the children are looked after.”

Rose tilted her head expectantly. “Are you taking us back to Gallifrey?”

“We did consider that,” she said slowly before shaking her head. “But the both of us feel that it’s best we keep you off planet for the next while – at least until we can properly determine the implications and severity of the war that this Bad Wolf spoke of. Our most important concern for you and the children is to keep you safe and as far away from this war as possible.” She reached down to take Mark’s hand in hers. “Follow me.”

Rose fell into stride beside Romana as they walked to cross the quiet street toward the townhomes along the other side. “From what I understand from the bad Wolf, the war is still centuries away from Gallifrey.”

“Be that as it may,” Romana answered with a look left and right for traffic. She stepped onto the road. “I am hesitant to have you on Gallifrey for many reasons, the most important of which is to keep you and the children safe.” She lifted her long skirt with one hand to clear the curb on the other side of the robe. “There are many enemies that will try and use you against him as we move toward war. Whether he remembers you or not, I imagine there is a place for you that still exists inside his hearts, Rose.” She smiled for the man as she led them up the path toward the front door of a house. “I can’t risk that.”

Rose looked around curiously at the neatly manicured gardens of the home, almost out of place in comparison to the homes that surrounded it. Blooms that should not exist on this planet stood out prominently in the tiny garden bed underneath the windows. “What’s this place?” she asked quietly.

“Your home,” Romana answered as she unlocked the door and pushed it open. She stepped inside, kicking off her shoes at the doorway and advising Mark to do the same.

Rose paused just shy of entering. “My home?”

Romana crouched to assist Mark in removing his sandals and looked up to Rose with a smile. “Did you think that Brax or myself would leave you to fend for yourself and not at least give you and the children shelter?” She tutted and rose to a stand, taking Mark’s hand in hers once again to lead him into the corridor that led into the house. “As soon as the Doctor fled Gallifrey, Braxiatel sent out several orders to may of the staff to arrange a home and care for you and the children. We’ve been working for a month to get all of this put together.”

Rose kicked off her shoes at the door, and stilled at Romana’s words. “I’m sorry, did you say it’s been a month?”

“Closer to two if I’m being honest,” she admitted. “Brax was quite insistent that we try and monitor the Doctor’s movements first, to see if he would move to come to you. When he didn’t appear to be doing so, we put together a plan to ensure you and the children were well looked after.” She led them toward the kitchen. “Which involved finding you shelter and a form of income for the immediate future.”

Rose slowly walked the corridor, twirling with a gasp at the warmth and homeliness provided by her in-laws. She’d been to their home on Gallifrey many, many times throughout her life there – their home was rather unfeeling and sterile-looking. This. This was a home so much more apt for she and her husband … well … ex-husband, now. Her mouth gaped for her to draw in a pained breath. “It’s beautiful,” she managed. “Thank you.”

Romana led them into an expansive kitchen, with wide windows that let in an incredible amount of natural light. “Braxiatel was quite focused on this room,” she said with a smile. “He claims that you spend quite an amount of time in here, preparing meals and baking…” She rubbed at the back od her neck. “I’m not quite sure if you would consider that offensive and sexist.”

That made Rose smile. “No. Not at all, actually. The Doctor and I spent a lot of time together in the kitchen, actually. It’s a good meeting place.” She set Alirra into a beautifully elaborate and pretentiously crafted high-chair and then walked to the stove and a stainless steel tea pot atop an unlit burner. “I’d ask if you want tea, but I suspect I have to go do a shop first.”

“No,” she corrected with a smile. “Brax made sure to have you with a full fridge and pantry, as he didn’t feel that you should have to find the energy to do it for yourself at this time.” She pursed her lips. “All supplies from Gallifrey markets, of course. He’s quite opposed to the idea of heading into one of your local supermarkets and the _riff-raff_ that frequent those locations.” She let out a breath and shook her head. “My hearts do beat for that man, don’t get me wrong, but he can certainly be a pompous and self-righteous wonder at times.”

“At times,” Rose sang with a teasing smile. “I’d say it is his default setting.” She held up the kettle. “Tea?”

Romana nodded. “thank you, I’d like that.”

Rose put the kettle on the stove and moved about the kitchen as though she’d been using it for years, not only seeing it for the first time. She autonomously removed fruit from a bowl and a plate from a cabinet, and started to prepare a small salad for her son. “I expect my wonderful Brother in Law has a few dire warnings for you to share with me during your visit.”

She smirked. “You know him well.”

Rose nodded. “I really would expect no less of him, really.” She slid the freshly cut fruit to her son and looked toward the table in front of a wide set of glass doors that led to a small back patio and yard. “Share with your sister, please.”

Mark popped a piece of magnolia in his mouth and nodded. “And leave you two alone to talk, yeah. I get it.”

“Cheeky,’ Romana said with a chuckle as she rubbed at his head. “And thank you, Mark. It’s appreciated.”

He shrugged and moved to the table, setting the bowl in between he and his sister. “Welcome.’

Rose smiled at her boy and looked back toward Romana. “So. Out with it. What message does Brax have for me?”

“You can’t look for him,” she said firmly, the look in her eyes begging no argument. She waited until Rose’s eyes met hers before elaborating. “And if you happen to see him, walk in the opposite direction.”

Rose closed her eyes and let out a breath. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

“I’m monitoring the timelines, Rose. I promise you that.” She reached out to cover Rose’s hand with hers. “As soon as it’s safe to do so … when we can find a branch of his timeline where your meeting again will be safe for reality, I will find him for you.”

“And if it turns out there is no way?”

“Then we will return you to Gallifrey,” she vowed. “You and the children. When it’s safe, you will return to Gallifrey with Brax and I.” She squeezed Rose’s hand. “My husband is quite firm when he says that you, his niece and nephew won’t be alone.”

Rose forced out a chuckle. “I didn’t know he cared.”

“The sister he wishes he had,” Romana said with a smile. “Of course, he uses the excuse that if he didn’t make sure you were cared for that his mother would return from the tomb to haunt him mercilessly.” Her smile broadened. “Terrified of the paranormal, my Braxiatel. So very unlike his brother.”

“They’re more alike than either of them would like to admit,” Rose said with a small smile. She put the kettle on the stove and moved around the kitchen to prepare tea for the both of them. “Sometimes I think Brax reverts to being a pompous git to hide the fact those hearts beating inside his chest are capable of caring very deeply toward others.”

“I agree,” Romana half whispered. “And I admit that it’s nice to have someone who understands that side of him.” 

“He’s got as much human in him as the Doctor does,” Rose said with a shrug. “Despite trying to convince himself otherwise. He’s going to care – it’s what we do – he can’t fight it.” She smirked. “But he’s also got as much Time Lord in him, which makes him wholly capable of not giving a shit toward those he doesn’t much care about.”

“Polar opposite ends of the spectrum,” Romana agreed. “Which actually makes him so much more dangerous than even the Doctor.”

“I wouldn’t want on _his_ shit list, that’s for sure,” Rose said with widening eyes. “I’d make the Doctor mad before I’d upset Brax. I’ve seen the two of them wage war upon the other … I know who scares me the most out of the both of ‘em.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re not on the _shit list_ ,” Romana said with a chuckle. “Which is a remarkable saying. Do you mind if I use it?”

“Go right ahead,” Rose said with a shrug. “Not that anyone’d understand what you’re on about in Council Chambers.”

“Which makes it more appealing when I point to a member who has upset him and remark that he’s now on the shit list.” She tapped at her chin. “And saying it in your language would make it even more interesting. How do I say it in English?”

Rose spoke the two words slowly in her own language, being careful to enunciate each letter carefully. She chuckled as Romana repeated the phrase. “Use your TARDIS translator,” she suggested with a smile.

“Nah,” Romana drawled. “You took the time and patience to learn the language of the Time Lords without reliance on your own TARDIS translator, it’s only right that I offer the same respect.” She rolled her jaw and tongue around the words.

Rose looked on with a smile and turned as the whistle on the kettle called out a shrill cry. “So anything else from Brax other than don’t look for Thete lest the universe collapses on itself.” She looked up. “That might’ve sounded better if I tried to actually imitate his voice.”

“No,” Romana said with a laugh. “I got it … _and_ I heard it in his voice.”

“Of course you did,” Rose remarked with a smile as she pouted the water from the kettle into a teapot. “It’s one of the reasons we get along so well, we read each other well.”

“More often than not, yes,” she agreed. She then slouched on the top of the breakfast counter with a lean on her forearms. “As for Brax’s other instructions, well, he’ll outline them when he drops by to check on the three of you.” She looked at the wolves sniffing at the back door hoping to be let out. “Five of you.”

“C-can we expect to see you and Brax often?” she asked with a quiet voice. “Or once we’re settled, you’ll disappear?”

Romama looked up with surprise at that particular question. There was no doubt inside hers or her husband’s mind that they would remain a big part of Rose and the children’s life going forward. She saw the shudder inside Rose’s frame and realisation dawned. While the incident with Bad Wolf was nearly two months passed for her, it was only moments ago for Rose and the children. Without taking care for propriety, Romana quickly stood from the chair and walked around the breakfast counter. She wrapped her arms around the shuddering woman and held her firm. She gently shushed her with a quiet hush between her teeth when she started to cry on her shoulder.

“One thing my husband has insisted upon is that you and the children will never be alone,” Romana said firmly. “He made a vow to his brother, and he intends on keeping that vow. _We_ intend on keeping that vow.” 


	60. The Year that Was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year passed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one to get over the hump of a year that was .... figured I'd better get us over that hump, and with my limited time today, couldn't get much else done... 
> 
> I hope you enjoy a second offering today.
> 
> Until tomorrow!

~~oooOOOOooo~~

Rose was in the kitchen with her children, helping Mark with his spelling homework when there was a knock at the front door. The door promptly burst open, smacking hard against the wall. She could hear the excited rambling of a woman scuffling there, likely removing her shoes.

“Donna?” she called out cautiously. “Is that you?”

“Yeah, Blondie, it’s me,” she called back. “You in the kitchen?”

Rose didn’t need to answer, instead she looked at her son with wide eyes of amusement and a smile. “And in three, two….”

Donna burst into the kitchen with all of the energy of a wrecking ball. She held a newspaper paper in her hands and was waving it around excitedly. ‘Did you hear about the US President?”

Rose turned in her seat to lever herself up. With autonomy that came with a day-time visit from her best friend, she wandered quickly to the stove to prepare a pot of tea. “No,” she answered with a smile. “What’s happened? Did he get caught with one of his interns, again?”

Donna flopped down next to Mark, giving the youngster a side hug of greeting. She looked down at his homework with a sneer in her lip. “Is your mother really making you sit here on a Saturday to do your homework?” She leaned in to him. “Child abuse, that is…”

Mark chuckled in agreement as he ran his thumb over a small orange piece of smooth coral in his hand. He focused a little and spoke slowly. “I know, right?”

“Don’t you go giving him ideas,” Rose warned. “He’s too much like his father, he’ll find some way to use that against me so he doesn’t have to do his work.”

“You and me,” Donna said to Mark in a conspiratorial manner. “If we work together on this…”

“Watch me spit in your tea,’ Rose warned. She pointed at her son and shifted toward Gallifreyan. “You still have twenty words to get right, Mark. Best you work on that.”

Donna looked between the two of them. “You know, Rose. It might be good if you try speaking to him in English more. Might help him, you know?” She frowned. “Though he seemed to understand me a little bit better than normal.”

Rose’s eyes widened. Braxiatel had given the child a small chunk of a coral from a retired travel capsule. While not perfect, as long as the child held it, he was able to make basic translations from Gallifreyan to English.

“His uncle’s been working with him on it,” she lied with a smile. “Brax and Thete, their mother was English, so he’s a natural translator between the two languages. I can understand, speak and read it, but translating? Nah, not there yet.”

“I’m still waiting for you to teach me a swear or two,” Donna said with a smirk.

“Not in front of the kids,” Rose said with a chuckle. “Next time we chat over wine I’ll teach you some of the filthiest words an Arcadian can say if you like.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

Rose pushed a mug of freshly brewed tea across the breakfast counter. That was her unspoken request that Donna leave the table and her son to do his homework and join her at the counter. “So? What about the President, then?”

Donna’s eyes widened and she quickly shot up from her chair. “Oh my God,” she huffed as she slipped onto a tall seat at the counter and cupped her mug with both hands. She leaned in. “He was assassinated this morning!”

Rose’s eyes shot wide and she half choked on her mouthful. She wiped at her chin. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah,” Donna huffed. Her excitement was most definitely fueled by shock and her hands tightened on her mug. “There’s a hell of a lot of different versions flitting around about what actually happened, but yeah, assassinated!”

“That’s horrible,” Rose breathed out. “What are they saying happened?”

Donna shook her head. “No one really knows, Rose. That’s the thing. I mean the whole thing was telecast live on telly, but still no one can agree on what really happened.”

Rose lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Sounds about right. Conspiracy theory nutjobs already doing their thing on the internet already?”

Donna nodded. “Yeah. Some are saying that it is all faked and that the Democrats or the Republicans or whoever are supporting a fake death thing to get rid of Winters and let the VP in.”

“How’d they come up with that?”

“Not to forget that they’re sayin’ that bloody Saxon was the one who ordered it!”

Rose’s jaw fell open. “The Prime Minister? Are you kidding me?” She looked slightly panicked at the thought of what retaliation would come from the US. “A-and has the US said anything?”

Donna’s brows creased at a loud sound coming from near the living room, a loud whine and wheeze sound. She looked to the hallway. “What the hell is that?”

Rose gasped and shook her head. “Oh. Nothing. Just the streetsweeper outside,” she ventured. “I think it’s time for a new machine.”

“You’re telling me,” she gruffed with a wince. “Hate to be trying to take a nap in with that thing going by.”

“Surprised you haven’t hear it before,” she said with a bite at her lip. She looked to her child. “Mark, I think your uncle might be here. Did you want to let him know that ….”

Her words cut as Braxiatel burst into the kitchen. His suit was missing his tie and the waistcoat. It was wrinkled and seated awkwardly on his body. His hair, usually gelled back and styled to perfection, was now a greasy-looking mess. His face, always perfectly manicured and shaved so closely that one could believe he didn’t have any facial hair aside from a moustache, now bore the shadow of not days, but weeks without shaving. The wild look in his eyes gave her little doubt at all that he was panicked beyond any worry he’d ever had before in his lives.

Rose stepped around the counter, her own face a picture of concern. “Brax?”

His eyes found hers and relief slumped his shoulders. Any worry evaporated almost immediately as he rushed forward and pulled her into an embrace that would have rivalled any that the Doctor had given her in their days together – even after a harrowing adventure where he was glad to see her safe. He changed the tight hold he had on her three times before he finally pulled back and cupped her face. 

“Rassilon,” he breathed out with relief. “You’re okay.” 

“Of course we’re okay, Brax,” Rose said to him with a smile that hid her own worry. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

“A year,” he panted out, worry turning to relief with such speed his respiratory bypass was kicking in to help him breathe. “We’ve been trying to enter your timeline for a whole year.” His head shook and he raked his hands through his hair. “But we haven’t been able to. Romana and I, oh Rose,” he looked at her with worry returning. “We couldn’t get to you. We couldn’t find you.”

“We’re right here,” she offered him, pressing her hand to his chest. “Haven’t been anywhere.”

He gripped her arms. “There’ve been tremors on Gallifrey. Warnings of a paradox in play. Thete, he…”

“That’s wrong with the Doctor?”

“Nothing,” he managed out with a crease in his brow. “But there were warnings.” His breath actually shook, and he ran a hand down over his face. “Thete was in trouble, the Earth was in trouble. Reality was unstable.”

Now it was Rose’s turn to panic. “Is he alright, Brax? You tell me he’s alright!”

He nodded with a wince. “Yeah. Yes.” His head shook, the wince on his face telling her that he was battling to remove images from his mind. “Thete’s good. Now. He’s fine. Getting into trouble in Earth’s outer atmosphere right now, if my telepathic connection to him is accurate.” He lifted his eyes. “Now. But for a while there, Rose. I couldn’t see him. I couldn’t see you or the kids. We couldn’t find you.”

“We’ve been right here…”

“A whole year,” he clarified sharply.

“Brax,” Rose half growled trying to get him to listen. “Brax. Take a breath.” She rubbed his arms. “You and Romana were here yesterday. Just yesterday, don’t you remember?” She tilted her head at him. “I made you grilled yaddlefish for dinner.”

He blinked with surprise at that. “Rose, that was not yesterday.”

She nodded. “Yes, Brax. It was.” She looked toward Mark, whose eyes were wide on his uncle. “It was his birthday, remember? You gave him a Cathocode Troisieme Timepiece artifact from an old capsule. You told him that the two of you would start to rebuild it together next week.”

“To install in the capsule that has been seeded for him back at the Hyperloom,” he said to himself. “Yes, that’s right.” His brow pinched with confusion. “But I don’t understand, according to the Tme-Curve Indicator, we are 12 months and two days from that date – relative time of course.”

“Doesn’t need saying,” Rose offered with a shrug. “Probably a good ten years Gallifreyan time, right?”

“Close to it,” he breathed with a nod.

“If that’s the case, Uncle Brax,” Mark called over with a cheeky voice. “Did you bring me another birthday present?”

Braxiatel looked to the table, and toward two children that looked upon him with varying expressions. Mark looked at him with surprise and even amusement, Alirra looked at him with no expression at all; she just pulled slow sucks on her pacifier. 

“For once,” he breathed out as he walked toward the children. “Your cheeky little mouth is a joy rather than annoyance, young Mark.”

“Well then I’m not trying hard enough,” he purred with a chuckle as his uncle leaned down to give him a hug. “Am I?”

Brax lifted Alirra from her high chair and cuddled her close into his chest. “You all gave me quite the scare.”

Donna, who had remained very quiet throughout an exchange that she couldn’t understand, finally piped up. “Okay. Now that I assume that has been resolved. Hello Irving, how are you?”

“Donna,” he said with a switch to English as he walked around the table toward her. Alirra was perched at his hip, her head tucked into his neck, sucking her pacifier. “My apology, I didn’t notice you there.”

“I’ll try not to take offence to that,” she said with a shrug of one shoulder and a smirk on her face. “But you did seem upset when you arrived, so I’ll give you a pass.” She looked him up and down. “You look terrible, by the way. Had a bit of a night, did you?”

He shifted Alirra on his hip and stroked the child’s hair tenderly. “Yes, indeed. I got – how you say – very inebriated last evening. Can’t quite remember what I got up to.” He looked toward Rose, switching to Gallifreyan. “Did I get that right? Am I believable?”

Rose shook her head, but smiled. She moved to English. “Then if that’s the case, Brax…” She pulled a tumbler from the cupboard and pressed it into a depression in the fridge that plopped a few chunks of ice into the glass. “You’d better have a hair od the dog that bit you – don’t you think so, Donna?”

Donna nodded and leaned back behind her to retrieve a bottle of that Rose had told her was a potent form of whiskey from Arcadia. She passed it to Rose, who quickly pulled out the cork and sloshed a good three fingers worth into the glass. “I’m with Blondie, drink up.”

“I’m driving,” he said with a sigh. “I’d better not.”

Rose shook her head at him. “No. You’re not,” she insisted flatly. “You’ll stay with us tonight. Drink up, then head upstairs for a shower and a shave. There’s a spare suit in the spare room from when you and Romana stayed over a few months ago. You’ll sleep there.” She held up a finger. “No arguments. You look like you need to have a couple to settle your nerves…” She looked toward her daughter, content in his arms. “And the kids’ll love to have you spend the night.”

“But…”

“I’m not sending you home to Romana looking like that.” She leaned down onto the table, supported by her hands. “I’m making Broakir steaks and vegetables for dinner, with Magnolia pie and icecream to finish,” she sang enticingly.

His brow flicked to suggest he was willing to bite. “Magnolia pie, you say?”

She nodded. “From the fruit you brought me yesterday.”

Braxatel gave a grin. He handed Alirra to her mother and slammed back the entire contents of the glass in one gulp. With barely a wince at the stinging burn from the alcohol in the back of his throat, he turned and marched toward the hallway. “Please let me freshen up. I’ll contact my wife and let her know I’ll be home late.”

Donna shook her head at his retreating form. She looked to Rose with a laugh in the back of her throat. “His wife doesn’t mind him staying over?”

She shrugged as she popped out Alirra’s pacifier and replaced it with a bottle of juice. “Not at all. Romana and I get along very well. I would have been as comfortable with her spending the night alone with Thete as she is with Brax being here with us.”

“Secure women,” Donna remarked with high brows. “Don’t know that I could ever be so trusting.”

Rose laughed. “I love him, Brax. I really, really do. But to shag him?” She shuddered and sat down on a stool, pulling Alirra onto her lap. “No ta.” She looked over at the paper that sat on Donna’s thigh. “So back to your newspaper and reports about the assassination of the President…”

Donna unfoled the paper onto the table. “Actually, that was just my opening line. I’ve got something a little more interesting to ask you about.”

Rose’s brows lifted. “Oh?”

“Remember when I told you about that fella,” she began. “The one we saw on the telly a little while back. The one who helped me out with Lance?”

Rose nodded. “The Doctor, yes. What about him?”

“I’ve been trying to find him again.”

Rose’s eyes widened. Discomfort crossed her features. “W-Why would you want to do that?”

“To travel,” she sang out with longing. “I’ve done the travel thing on my own. It’s lonely.” Her mouth stretched into a grin. “So I figure, me and him. We could travel together, you know. Not be alone anymore.”

Rose blinked. “As in,” she cleared her throat with a shaking breath. “You know. Lovers?”

Donna actually belched out her laugh. “Oh. Please.” She waved her hand. “Not my type at all. Far too skinny. Break him in two if I gave him a decent hug … would hate to see what would happen if I tried anything else with him.”

Rose swallowed thickly. “You don’t even know him, Donna. It could he dangerous. What if he’s a creeper or something.” She shifted her child on her lap. “ It’s really probably best you don’t…”

Donna leaned forward and smoothed out the creases in the paper. “So anyway. I’ve been looking at the strange and mysterious, because that seems to be his M.O.” She looked up with an eager glint in her eye. “And so anyway.” She pointed at an advertisement with testimonials on the second page. “Adipose Industries,” she purred with a laugh. “Almost instant weight loss? I don’t think so…”

Rose breathed out unsurely. “Oh. I don’t know.”

“I’m going to check it out.” She smirked. “I’d ask if you want to come along, but…”

“But I’ve got two youngsters that need watching.”

Her face fell. “Shame, that, because I reckon you’d be so good at this kind’ve thing.” She peered at Mark and gave the lad a wink. “You gave birth to Mr. Sneaky himself.”

Rose merely chuckled an uncomfortable sound.

Donna leaned down over the paper. “So what’dya think?”


	61. Partners in Crime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donna and the Doctor reunite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> And now becomes Donna's reign on the TARDIS with the Doctor... And our old boy moves those inches closer to finding his family...
> 
> Now. I don't want to go ahead and rewrite entire episodes here, so what I've done, is picked snippets that I think matter to the telling of my story. As brilliant as RTD"s stories are, I will assume you've already watched them and don't want me to rewrite it all word for word... There's no way I could do it any justice if I tried, anyway... and then it's too time consuming, and this fic is already long enough with my own drivel. heh. heh. 
> 
> So that said: You will definitely recognise dialogue and whatnot, but you will also note the changes I've made to go along with this story.... And that a good bulk of the actual episode is not there ...
> 
> I really hope you enjoy this new phase of the fic...

~~oooOOOooo~~

He really didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing that he appeared to be so fit looking and visually appealing in this incarnation. On one point, it did mean that he could use it against an easily manipulated prowling single human woman looking for a mate to get what he needed to get without too much effort. On the other hand it meant that he could use it against easily manipulated prowling female women looking for a mate to get what he wanted without too much effort.

He felt a bit like a piece of tasty meat, ogled at and thought about in obscene ways by the opposite sex … and quite likely those of his own gender that preferred to peer and fantasize about … ahem …

…It would appear that he was feeling much like most females on Earth did on a daily basis from prowling human men. Of course, he was using it to his advantage right now. He’d feel shame for his blatant use of his attractiveness, but he’d convinced himself this was the best course of action for now. Flirting really did come quite easy in this body, so why not take the easier route?

He crumpled the small slip of paper that held the phone number of the young lady who had so blatantly expressed her desire for an interlude of sorts with him. He had considered just pocketing it to lose it in amongst the other bits and bobs and garbage inside his trouser pockets, but really, what was the point? He flicked it into the closest trash receptacle as he passed by. The small ball of crumpled paper hit the wall and bounced into the bin. Hitting the trash within at the same time that his left hand slipped into his pockets. He held a list in his right hand and scanned the data briefly to determine his next pathway toward answers.

“Roger Davey,” he mumbled to himself. “Not too far from here.”

~~oooOOOOooo~~

The fat just walks away…

Well that was a thinker. Without having any further information, that left several possibilities as to what kind of species were attempting nefarious deeds against the Human race here. _Well_. Not that the people in London losing weight would consider any part of it nefarious by any means. They were quite focused on the whole weight loss thing and the easiest ways of achieving what they considered to be the perfect body. They’d gladly ignore the dangers if it meant they could drop a few clothing sizes without having to do any actual work to achieve it.

His lips pursed as he tapped a couple of buttons on his rather crudely slapped together gizmo. He’d configured it to pick up any random signals that didn’t quite originate on Earth. It threw him in several directions when he’d first turned it on, too sensitive it appeared. It had dragged him into the exact opposite direction to where he’d believed it should have led. He marched through a long stretch of old townhomes lit by dim streetlights with incandescent yellow bulbs and paused a moment at the path of a pretty looking home nestled in amongst a line of homes that appeared much less loved than the owner of this one. It had pretty garden beds filled with fragrant blooms arced around the windows that had him draw in a deep inhale. He felt a shift inside his chest at the familiarity of the scent; one he could quite recall ever smelling here on Earth before. His eyes fell to the lavender-coloured blooms and his head shifted to one side with curiosity. So much like the Schlenk blossoms from Gallifrey. He crouched beside a pathway of brilliant red stone that led from the sidewalk to the front door, and touched a fingertip to a red bloom. It shuddered under his touch and the flower snapped closed.

“Just like a Venus Fly Trap,” he remarked to himself with a smile. “Looking for food, are you? Well, my finger isn’t what I suspect is on your list of good things to eat.”

The gizmo in his hand flashed and blinked, which drew him to a stand. He walked to the door and lifted his hand to knock his knuckles against the polished, live-edged wood door. He paused to look upon its design and instead ran a thumb along its surface and the dark grain hidden within the white wood.

“Beautiful,” he remarked under his breath. “I wonder what wood this is, it’d look lovely as a book case in the TARDIS library. Perhaps I could ask.” He curled his hand into a fist and lightly rapped on the door, and then took a step backward to wait for the homeowner to answer. There was a shift of urgency inside his chest for the door to open, he wasn’t entirely sure of just why that was. He’d never been excited about wood before now.

The device beeped urgently, which took his attention from the door. He held it up and spun in place letting out a small cheer as it seemed to lock onto a signal just off in the distance.

“Brilliant,” he called out excitedly as he held his arm outstretched almost to it’s limit and ran in the direction of the signal. “Oh, yes, you beautiful thing that’s it, you send daddy where he needs to go!”

As he disappeared into the darkness, his sole focus on the device in his hand, the door to the home opened. 

Rose Tyler’s head curled around the door. Her daughter was on her hip, slurping loudly on a piece of juicy fruit, and Tiallu was at her side, sniffing at the air around them. 

“Huh,” she hummed to herself seeing her porch empty. She looked to her daughter, who stared off into the darkness with wide eyes. “I must have imagined it,” she said to her with a sigh. “Or the local kids are playing a game of Thunder and Lightning and picked out house for a knock and run. What do you think, Aly? Hmmm? Kids playing about?”

She looked down to her wolf when Tiallu gave a short whimper and huff. “Everything okay, girl? See something I don’t?” When the wolf didn’t make any other movement or sound, she shrugged. “Guess not.” She nodded back inside. “Come on, bit chilly out tonight, let’s get inside and warm up.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

What part of him thought that locking himself in a storage closet for the day was a good idea, he didn’t know, but the Doctor had done it without too much fuss. Well, honestly, he hadn’t noticed the wait too much. He’d been pushing his sleep cycle a bit too much lately in the search for … well … just searching.

Martha had left him barely a month ago. She knew he was pushing himself too hard to find the impossible. He had been ignoring her far more than normal with his focus on finding Rose and his kids. He’d saved those searches for when Martha was asleep after their own adventures. It had made him grumpy and unreasonable than usual … _more_ grumpy and unreasonable than usual. The twelve months she’d spent walking the Earth at his behest was her tipping point…

…That and the young, handsome, Cerulean who had walked the Earth with her. A dead man walking, really. Gallifrey was gone, and so, therefore, was her Gallifreyan soldier _boyfriend_. 

He didn’t quite know how to explain that reality to her considering the fellow was quite obviously alive right at that moment… _Time travellers, Doctor_. Tom was as much alive as he was dead. … And so he’d remained silent as she explained her need to walk away and who she was walking away with.

“ _Good luck, you brilliant, amazing woman_ ,” his mind supplied. “ _Keep making me proud – so proud – of you. And thank you. Thank you for everything_.”

Of course with her departure, he no longer had anyone tapping him on the shoulder and reminding him to take a breather and sleep. So he hadn’t…

…Until now, of course. Eight hours inside a small storage room gave him ample time to catch up. Which meant that now he was ready and raring to go! 

The Bio flip digital switch that was on the gold pendant was intriguing and worth examining further. Quite exciting, really. He had a few ideas as to what it could be used for, but wanted to get a little bit more information about it before he started to tinker with it… lest he destroy the piece completely and be left with nothing.

He leaned his hands on the ledge of the roof of the building and looked down to the street below. It would be ideal if he could find a way down to the main office floor and get a listen in to any discussions without being detected at all. The cradle used for window washers hung below him and a smile crossed his face. 

“Perfect.”

Getting down was easy enough. Well. It had to be, right? No sense in it being a complicated task for the workmen to operate. He managed to get it settled enough and pulled a stethoscope from his coat pocket. He stared at the thing for a moment, considering the item and wondering just why it was he kept it in his pocket. He took a closer look at the back of the bell, and to an inscription carefully etched into the silver edge

_“For the doctor with the little d”_

He sighed as his thumb traced the engraving as he wondered who it was from, and what it actually meant. He shrugged, shook his head and popped the earpieces into his ears. He pressed the chest piece to the window and listened in to what was happening inside the room.

His eyes flashed wide and his mouth gaped as he heard Miss Foster speaking about the capsules the humans were taking as being a spark of life, and causing the fat of a human to galvanise together to form a living entity. A child? His lips pulled back over his teeth and he voiced his surprise and horror at the idea.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he growled to himself. He stood up to take a look inside the room, happy to be hidden by the darkness outside. 

His eyes scanned the room a little as he removed the stethoscope from his ears and pocketed it again. He frowned at the obvious interrogation of a woman tied to a chair and immediately his mind began to formulate a plan for rescue. A flash of red in his peripheral captured his attention, and his entire focus shifted toward a porthole-sized window at the opposite side of the room to where he was positioned.

“Donna?” Oh, no. I couldn’t be. Really?

Donna, bless, she made sure to emphasize the words she was saying on her end, obviously aware of the face that he couldn’t hear her.

“Doctor?!”

Well there’s a shock. He didn’t bother hiding that as his brows pulled together and his eyes narrowed. “But what? What? What?”

“Oh. My. God.” 

He thought of something far more offensive than saying a deity’s name in vain, but held off saying it in favour of maintaining a completely surprised expression. “But how?”

She pointed to herself with obvious glee. “It’s me.”

Well, yes. Obviously. He gave the tiniest of nods and pointed to himself, then his eyes. “Yes, I can see that.”

“Oh, this is brilliant!” She held both thumbs up and grinned widely.

Brilliant? No it wasn’t! Well. Okay, it was, but at the same time, no it wasn’t. Donna was in danger, and this wasn’t what he wanted for her. “What the Hell are you doing there?”

“Looking for you.”

He pointed at himself. “What for?” Indeed, why would anyone be specifically looking for him? 

She engaged in what the Doctor could only describe as a game of charades at that point. Mouthing her words as clearly as she could, while gesturing with her arms to try and tell the story. He watched her with rapt curiosity and thought that he was keeping up with her. Something about the internet, and being weird. Someone crept, he assumed it was her. Listening, heard them talking, then hid, stood up and… oh, yes. Him!

Donna turned off to one side, her charades ending abruptly as though caught. She looked toward where Miss Foster had been talking to indeed discover that the tow of them had been caught.

“Are we interrupting you?”

Rassilon. 

He looked back to Donna, flicked his head to one side. “Run!”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Locked together back inside the storage closet that the Doctor had spent the entire day hiding out in, and it was a fairly tight squeeze. Fortunately, skinny though he was, there seemed to be adequate room within for them not to get too up close and personal – once he threw out a ladder and a couple of mops.

To the back of the wall was a large green computer panel. He turned to it. “I’ve been hacking into this thing all day, because the matron’s got a computer core running through the centre of the building,” he said almost distractedly.

Well not all day – he had caught up on a little bit of sleep. No need to admit that.

“Triple deadlocked. But now I got this.” He grinned and held up the sonic pen he’d stolen from Miss Foster earlier.

Donna hummed and looked over his shoulder at what he was doing, but thankfully remained silent. “She’s wired up the whole building. We need a bit of privacy.”

Hoping that he didn’t come across as being a snake or a sleezeball, he held up a pair of wires. He pressed them together to put of a forcefield between them and the guards that he knew had to be prowling about outside in search of them. “There,” he breathed out. “Just enough to stop them.” His expression shifted to curiosity that wasn’t the happy sort. “Why’s she wired up the tower block. What’s it all for?”

Donna didn’t seem as much interested in what he was doing. Instead she opted for small talk.

“You look older.”

Start off with an insult? Great. “Thanks.” He muttered without looking at her.

“Still on your own?”

He heard the quiet concern in her voice. “Yep,” he began with a pop. He then corrected that. “Well, no. I had this friend. <Artha she was called. Martha Jones.” He smiled with remembrance. “She was brilliant.” His smile fell. “And I ruined her life. But she’s fine. She’s good. She’s gone.”

Donna didn’t seem all that interested in hearing about Martha. Instead she went right for his jugular. “What about Rose?”

Pain entered his voice at that name. He swallowed and spoke softly. “Still lost.”

“Still searching, or did you give up and move on?”

His lips pursed and he sniffed almost indignantly. “There is no moving on,” he said with a croak in his voice. “Not from Rose.”

“She’s more than just a friend, isn’t she, Doctor?” She tilted her head to him. “Who is she to you?”

His face creased up. “Can we talk about something else please?” He closed his eyes and sniffed deeply. Stabilising his emotions he cleared his throat and swallowed, sounding almost choked when he spoke again. “Anyway. I thought you were going to travel the world?”

She touched his arm and rubbed up and down in a tender gesture of understanding, letting him know she could hear his pain. She kept tenderness out of her voice, though, and forced a more exasperated sound instead. “Easier said than done. It’s like I had that one day with you, and I was going to change. I was going to do so much.” She huffed. “Then I woke up the next morning. Same old life. It’s like you were never there.”

He nodded, but said nothing.

“And I tried. I did. I went to Egypt.” She smiled. “Blondie’s brother, Irving. He set me up with a really unique travel plan…”

His brows lifted. “Blondie?”

“My neighbor, Rose,” Donna answered wincing when she heard the slight whimper inside him at the mention of that name. “Her brother in law, Irving. Bit of a proper gent, that one. Well, he and I were discussing me heading off for a trip. Well travelled fella, I suppose, he helped me plan a perfect trip.”

“Enjoyable, then?”

She nodded. “It was, I have to admit.”

“Anywhere else?”

She shook her head. “Who can afford it?” she breezed out. “I’m just a temp, Doctor. A great temp, of course. Best in Chiswick.”

“No doubt.”

“But still a temp,” she said with a sigh. “Which doesn’t exactly give me the income to travel the world.” She looked at him. “And besides. My trip to Egypt. Expensive. Short. Two weeks after I left, I come home to what?” She rubbed at her arm. “Nothing like being with you at all. I must’ve been mad turning down your offer.”

He hummed. “What offer?”

“To come with you.”

He looked at her with a lift in his brow. “Come with me?”

She smiled widely, almost with relief. “Oh yes, please.”

“Right.” His eyes flashed and he looked at the computer as it spoke to them both. “Oh.”

“What’s it doing?”

He blew out a breath. “She’s started the program.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Donna and the Doctor fled to the roof, both of them skidding to a halt at the tall blue columns of light drawing up the tiny adipose babies to a large ship above them.

“What are you going to go, then?” she asked. “Blow them up?”

The Doctor’s eyes were upward. His voice was kind. “They’re just children,” he stated. “They can’t help where they come from.”

“Oh,” she said with surprise. “Well that makes a change from the last time.” She paused and smiled. “That Martha must’ve done you good.”

His eyes fell from the sky, as did his smile. Yes. Martha had been good for him. Very good. But she was gone now. In the arms of a man who could offer her so much more than his broken hearts ever could. “She did,” he admitted. “Yeah. She did.” He looked back up, his tongue pressed into the roof of his mouth as he watched the rise of so many youngsters. “Fancied me for a bit there,” he said with self pride.

“Mad Martha, then, that one,” she said with a smirk. “Blind Martha.” She snickered. “Charity Martha…”

He chuckled. “Caught up in a whirlwind, maybe, but Martha was not blind, mad, nor one to offer herself up as _charity_. “I wish you could have met her,” he said fondly. “So brave and brilliant.” His head shifted down. “Still. Gone now.”

“Does that happen often,” she asked. “That your friends leave you like that?”

“More often than I’d like to admit,” he said sadly.

“Well you’re stuck with me now,” Donna vowed. 

His head was once again high. “That’s what they all say,” he breathed out almost inaudibly. “His eyes widened as he saw Miss Foster rise up with the small Adipose. “There she is! Matron Cofelia, listen to me.”

She hovered at eye level for both the Doctor and Donna. She held her hands clasped in front of her in a picture of propriety. “Oh, I don’t think so, Doctor. And if I never see you again it will be too soon.”

He growled a huff. “Oh, why does no one ever listen.” He leaned forward and held out his hand to her.. “I’m trying to help. Just get across the roof. Can you shift the levitation beam?”

She scoffed but didn’t change her position. Instead she levered him with a look of patient indignance. “What? So you can arrest me?”

He held up both hands, then held one out. “Just listen. I saw the Adisposian instructions.” He breathed out. “They know it’s a crime, breeding on Earth.” His voice shifted to warning. “So what’s the first thing they want to get rid of? Their accomplice.”

She looked to him with condescending eyes. Her voice was as patronizing. “I’m far more than that. I’, nanny to all these children.”

“Exactly!” he barked out. His eyes were wide and wild, imploring her to listen to him. “Mum and dad have got the kids now. They don’t need the nanny anymore.”

No sooner had he spoken, and the levitation beam went dark. Miss Foster’s eyes flashed with surprise and then horror as the situation dawned. She dropped with a scream to the roadside below.

The Doctor winced and pulled Donna to cover her with his arms to spare her from seeing the scene below them.

Why didn’t people listen to him? Why?

~~oooOOOooo~~

He felt that his arm pay pull from the socket with the way that Donna was yanking at him. The hold she had on his hand was tight, and all he could do was follow almost pathetically behind her. She spoke excitedly of the TARDIS, and of travelling with him.

Oh, he wasn’t ready for a new companion right now. Martha’s departure still had him reeling, and he didn’t know that his hearts could take another one so soon. He also wanted to focus for a little on the search for his family, having to play chauffeur again would seriously cut into that time.

He staggered to a stop when she released his hand and let out an exclamation of surprise. “That’s my car!” she called with a cheer. That cheer turned into a low rumbling almost growl-like sound. “Oh, I’ve been ready for this.” She popped open the boot of the car. “I packed ages ago, just in case. Because I thought, hot weather, cold weather, no weather.” She started to unload the suitcases and boxes, dumping them into the Doctor’s not quite ready arms. “He goes anywhere. I’ve gotta be prepared.”

He blinked at the boxes in his arms piled higher. “You’ve got a … a hatbox.”

“Planet of the hats,” she sang out with a roll in her eyes. “I’m ready.” She stopped piling boxes on him and gave him a wide-eyed look. “I don’t need injections do I? You know, when you go to Cambodia.” Her head tipped curiously, but she shrugged and stepped into the TARDIS doors. “Is there any of that? Because my friend Veena went to Bahrain, and she…” she stopped, noticing his unsure look. “You’re not saying much.”

He juggled his armload. He didn’t want to reject her … perhaps discourage? “No. It’s just a funny old life in the TARDIS.”

Her entire posture fell. “You don’t want me.”

Oh, he didn’t like that posture, nor the disappointment in her eyes. “I’m not saying that.”

“But you asked me,” she all but begged, refusing to leave the TARDIS doors. Her voice fell. “Would you rather be on your own?”

Part of him – probably the older part of each and every one of his previous incarnations – wanted to drop everything in his arms and say yes. Of course he’d preferred his own company…

…Not really…

But the more Human side of him really didn’t want to be alone anymore. But he also didn’t want anyone else who would look to him as a romantic partner. He already had a wife and children.

“I just want a friend,” he told her without room for misinterpretation. “Donna. I’m don’t want to play games, flirt, and make you think I want anything more than just friendship.”

She looked quite put off by that. “I’m sorry, what do you think I want from you?”

“I have a wife,” he told her point blank. “And children.”

Her whole face fell. “Rose?”

He nodded. “And I want to look for them, Donna. I need to find them.”

“I can help,” she said with a smile. “I’d love to help you.”

“Are you sure?” he asked genuinely, hope flaring inside his chest. “We can still travel as you want to. Usually I did my scans and searches when Martha was sleeping…”

Donna shrugged. “You saved my life,” she told him. “On what looked to be the hardest day of your life, right after her loss hit you good and proper. You pushed that pain away to save me.” She leaned in the doorway. “Of course I want to help you – if you’ll let me come, that is.”

He nodded, a smile stretching across his face. “Of course. Yes. I’d love it.”

She skipped in place, letting out the shortest squeak of happiness. She shot forward, and for a brief moment, the Doctor believed she might be coming in for a hug. He spluttered, truly lost at how such a feat couple be accomplished with his arms full of her luggage. 

Donna stopped just short of him. “Keys,” she huffed.

“You don’t need one,” he ventured with a look around the packages toward the open TARDIS doors. “The door’s open.”

“My car keys, Dumbo,” she said with a laugh, holding them up for him to see. “Gimme a moment, yeah? I won’t be a minute. Take my things inside.”

“Ehm, yeah,” he drawled out with a wrinkle in his brow. “Sure okay.”

Donna sprinted to the corner, where a group of people had gathered behind crime scene tape to watch the police presence and hopefully capture a view of what had brought them here. She looked around the group, wondering just which one of these strangers she could trust with the keys to her mother’s car. At a familiar flash of long blonde hair, Donna let out a cheer. She ran toward a woman pushing a stroller along the street.

“Rose!”

Rose lifted her head from the pom pom of the hat that sat on the head of her daughter. So far she’d been winning tonight’s battle against Alirra’s vehemence against wearing a hat, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t going to keep a close eye on it.

She smiled when she saw her friend bound over to her with excitement. “Donna,” she called out with a laugh in her voice. “What’s got you all excited then?”

“I found him,” she answered with thrill. “The Doctor. I found him.”

Rose tried valiantly to hide her shock and fear at that. God, where was he? 

“Really?” she peeped with as much excitement as she could falsely exude . “Where … where is he?”

“Oh, round the corner,” she answered with a thumb over her shoulder. She smiled curiously. “You want to meet him?”

“Oh, oh no thank you,” she answered with a shake in her head. “I need to keep walking Alirra to try and get her to go to sleep. Can’t stop and chat, really.”

Donna dropped into a crouch and took Alirra’s hand. She wasn’t surprised when the little girl displayed no real emotion to her presence outside of sucking a few pulls on her pacifier and watching her with wide eyes that seemed to be able to burn right through her with the intensity of her stare. “You need to find a way to sleep, little one. You’re wearing out your mum.”

Alirra held out her hand and touched at Donna’s temple with her fingertips. The touch was short, but as always, it did leave a lasting impression of the tiny little girl in Donna’s mind. 

“I’m okay,” Rose said after a moment. “Used to little miss insomnia here. But no mind. Brax came round tonight. He’s good at getting her to crash out. I just thought I’d give the walking thing another try.” She curled her hair behind her ear. “But. Donna. Please be safe, yeah? You really don’t know this man, he could be dangerous.”

“Oh I trust him,” she sang with a smile. “I do.”

“Still,” Rose said. She leaned into her bag to grab a piece of paper and a pen. She scribbled down a number and handed it over to her. “That’s Brax’s number. If you or he –” she looked to the corner. “get in trouble, or get stuck. Call him. He’ll come get you. Both of you.” She held her hand for a moment when Donna reached for the paper. “And please, stay in touch.”

“Make it sound like I’m leaving forever,” Donna said with a shake of her head. “Come here, you.” She pulled Rose into a hug, holding her tightly with a moan. “Gonna miss you, Blondie.”

“You too, Donna.”

Donne held up her keys. “Oh, can you give these to Mum for me?” She thumbed back to the corner. “I parked the car there. She can come pick it up.”

Rose nodded. “Sure thing.”

“Anyway,” Donna called out. “I should go. Best not keep the man waiting.” She waved and jogged off around the corner, disappearing quickly.

In her stroller, Alirra started to fuss. She squirmed and writhed in her seat, letting out a whimper. Rose quickly dropped into a crouch. “Baby, what’s wrong.”

Alirra writhed and pulled at the straps holding her in place as the whine and wheeze of the TARDIS’ relative dimension stabilizer howled it’s sorrowful song. To her side, Rose watched as the blue ship howled up in a straight line above their heads, spinning on its; own axis as it launched up high through the clouds.

Young Alirra, silent and emotionless for the nearly twelve months since she lost her father, snatched her pacifier out with one hand and lifted the other little arm into the sky. “Papa!”


	62. Time Lord Kitchen Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How many Time Lords can fit in Rose's kitchen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno. It always seems to me that the Rose side of things is never as interesting to peeps as the Doctor side of things...
> 
> For the time being (not too long I hope) we will flip between them. A chapter each... Things are happening on Gallifrey. Things are happening for the Doctor. two roads are slowly coming together.
> 
> Fires of Pompeii with a Groovykat twist coming up next.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this one!

~~oooOOOooo~~

Alirra was still fussing and crying, forcing Rose to try and carry her on her hip while pushing the stroller back home. She couldn’t find the hands to use her key to open the door, and instead rapped her knuckles against it. Inside a moment, the door was pulled open and Braxiatel stood on the other side, his brows high on his forehead with surprise.

“Forget your keys?” he queried with humour in his voice. He noticed his niece’s apparent discomfort and held out his arms for her. “What seems to be bothering Alirra?”

“Close call,” Rose huffed in reply. She handed Alirra to her uncle and shook herself, taking a moment to brush her clothing in an attempt to straighten it out after being assaulted by little kicking feet and flailing hands. “The Doctor, he was just ‘round the corner…”

“He didn’t see you, did he?” Braxiatel barked out urgently. “You didn’t speak to him?”

Rose wore a grimace of frustration as she shook her head. “No, Brax. He didn’t see us, and I didn’t wait around for a quick catch-up over tea.” She folded up the stroller with angry movements and practically shoved her way past him to get inside. “Which is why your niece is so torn up right now.” She kicked off her shoes with far more force than was necessary. “Because she sensed her father’s presence, knew he was there, and wasn’t able to see him.”

“Seems to me that Alirra isn’t the only one torn up by that,” he remarked rather coolly. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you this side of rude outside of giving birth to your children.”

She pun on him, fury in her eyes. “That’s because I denied her her father,” she snapped. “He was probably only fifty feet away from us, Brax. Not even that.” Tears filled her eyes. “All I had to do was call his name, let Donna know to … to …” Her voice shudder as her hand lifted to her eyes and wiped with a gentle shift of her palm. “He was right _there_ , Brax.”

He nestled his fussing niece’s face into the crook of his neck and bounced just lightly to try and settle her. “So he’s with Donna now,” he said quietly on a long breath. “Good.”

Rose heard it in his voice: a complete lack of surprise. She used the back of her hand to wipe her eyes and steadied herself. “That doesn’t surprise you.”

He looked down along the hallway for a moment as though to check they weren’t being heard, and then looked back to her. He kept his voice quiet. Only loud enough for the two of them to hear. “Bad Wolf isn’t the only being in the universe capable of manipulating lives and timelines,” he said firmly.

Rose’s eyes flashed. “I’m sorry, what?” She leaned into him, her brows pulled tightly together into a frown. “What are you talking about?” She looked around them with worry in her eyes as though looking for a camera or a bug placed by the Bad Wolf to make sure they were behaving themselves. “But we can’t. You said so.”

He gave a huff of a laugh. “I’m a Time Lord of the Prydonian Order,” he growled. “A specialist at finding any loophole and widening that hole into a mighty chasm to serve my own manipulative purpose.” He jostled the now calming child on his hip. “She threatened my family, Rose. My brother, my niece and nephew…” He held up a hand to draw the back of his fingers down from her temple to her cheek, then cupped her jaw in a gesture so much tender than his words and voice would have suggested. “My sister...”

She held his hand at her cheek with both hands and breathed his name softly.

“Her control over your pathways has an end,” he assured her. “And I’m going to manipulate and control everything I can, just outside of her peripheral, to make sure that when it’s safe, my family will be reunited.” He let one corner of his mouth tip up into a somewhat dangerous smile. “Thete isn’t the only one of the two of us who likes to play with the rules a little.”

Romana’s somewhat amused voice chimed in. “Play with the rules, Brax? You and your brother prefer to ignore any ruleset completely.” She eyed him up and down. “Particularly you, husband. Your defiance of the rules that don’t appeal to you make the Doctor look like a saint by comparison. At least _he_ makes an attempt to follow them – half-arsed attempt though it may be.”

“I find the loopholes,” he corrected her with a sly grin. “And I walk the line carefully on that, I’ll have you know.”

“Of course you do, dear.” She looked toward Rose with concern in her eyes. Her head tilted to one side. “Rose? Are you okay?”

Rose’s face contorted into a face of complete upset. She pulled away from Braxiatel’s tender touch and launched toward Romana. The force of impact was enough to throw the surprised Time Lady backward a stumble, but she recovered quickly to embrace this now sobbing woman. She looked toward Braxiatel with wide eyes full of question.

“Thete,” he advised her on a quiet tone. “He was … close.”

“Oh,” Romana gasped out with a nod of her head. She tilted her chin in toward Rose, tightening their embrace. “I’m so sorry, Rose.”

He walked toward the pair on his way to the kitchen and paused at his wife’s side. “I now question the decision to place our little sister so close to Thete’s companion.”

Romana shot him a look. “Because if for any reason she and the children are in danger, he will be close by.”

“Yet we are to ignore the danger of him being _that_ close by,” he chirped in reply.

Rose pulled back from Romana and wiped at her eyes. “You can trust me, Brax,” she assured him. “I – I won’t let this sacrifice we’ve made be in vain by breaking the rules.” She huffed out. “though a heads up about it would have been appreciated, and probably much less of a shock.”

“She can’t know,” Brax warned her. “Your friend. Donna cannot know who you are to him.”

“Braxiatel’s right,” Romana cautioned her. “You humans and your caring…” she sighed. “She won’t be able to hide it from him.”

“You say that like you lot don’t have feelings,” Rose said with a smile. “Yet the two of you prove otherwise.” She swept her hair over her shoulder with a full sweep of her flattened palm. “But yeah, I get it.” Her head lowered. “Of course that’d mean he’d have to talk to her about me, and if my own experience with him proves anything, it’s that he doesn’t like to talk about former companions.”

“Then I think it to be a good thing that your Bad Wolf friend forced him to forget about you,” Braxiatel gruffed. “With him not knowing he has not only a wife in you, but children…” he saw a guilty look on her face and moved in close to her. “Rose?”

“He knows,” she admitted with a wince.

“I’m sorry, he what?”

Her face was a contorted expression of regret. “After Australia. The Doctor – my Doctor – didn’t remove the memories of me and Mark from his elder self’s mind.” She looked up to him with apology. “He knows that he has a wife and at least one child.”

“And so he’ll be looking for you,” he said with a wince and a sigh. “Well, this just got more complicated.”

Romana shook her head. “No, not really. If we assign a permanent travel capsule here in the home, then we can shield the property with a bio-dampener and a perception filter.” She rubbed at her chin with thought. “Which might not be a bad idea given the current circumstance and potential for Rose to require more room than this house can offer right now.”

“That is a good point,” Braxiatel agreed with a firm nod. “And rather easily arranged, of course. There are several older and less temperamental capsules available who would appreciate the opportunity to rest in silence for the time being.” He shifted Alirra to his other hip and pulled a phone from his trouser pocket. “I’ll contact the shipyards and arrange a transport. I can have a capsule here within the hour, and can have the shields in place before we leave in the morning.”

Rose looked in between the two of them, and how quickly and flawlessly they were able to counter off a potential threat to their carefully put together planning. She thought back to what Romana had said and one line knocked at her consciousness asking to be addressed.

“Romana,” Rose said carefully. “For what reason may I be requiring more room?” her eyes flashed and she looked toward her abdomen with a smile of excitement. “Are you pregnant?”

Both Romana and Braxiatel looked to her with matching expressions of horror. “I think not,” Romana answered with a measure of disdain as her arms shifted to cover at her mid drift. “Braxiatel and I would much rather not make a grandiose announcement such as that to the planet that we’ve engaged in the physical act of mating.” She straightened herself up to a more regal posture. “Any children that are to be sired will be done so via the looms, so as to keep our privacy toward such matters intact.”

Rose shifted a look to Braxiatel, who had turned a delightful shade of crimson. “And you say _I_ always make it easy for _you_.” She shook her head. “I don’t even know which part of that comment to start with.” 

“Might we move on?” he managed with a croak in his voice.

“Indeed we must,” Romana said with a shudder. She looked back to Rose and bit at her lip when she caught the amused sparkle in her eye. “I imagine this topic will be picked up again later over wine?”

“Oh yes it must be.”

She nodded and tried to hide the smile that was tickling at her lips. She managed it effectively enough with a clearing of her throat. “As to why you might need more room, Rose. Please, follow me to the kitchen.”

Rose’s amusement fled toward curiosity. “Okay.”

“Do be warned that there are currently several people seated at your dining table,” she advised with a swallow. “Most of them members of my council, and my most trusted confidants.”

Rose made it to the doorway and stopped short. Her jaw dropped to find a group of at least seven people seated at her dining table. Their ages varied, as did their race and gender, and they seemed to pour over a series of documents and schematic diagrams that littered the tabletop. Through the wide glass doors that led to her backyard, Rose could see five travel capsules parked in no paricular order or formation.

“A T-time Lord party?” she stammered out. “In my house?”

Seven sets of eyes lifted to look at her, all of them holding a different set of questions and emotions toward her presence. She felt immediately uncomfortable and took a small stride backward, turning her head to speak with her Brother in Law. “Erm, Brax?”

He strode into the room with all of the confidence of a man who couldn’t care less what any of them thought about him. He still carried Alirra on his hip, who was now fast asleep and drooling against his neck and lapel.

“My fellow Lords and Ladies. For those of you who haven’t yet met my Sister, allow me to introduce Lady Rose – the soul-bonded partner of my brother and mother of his children.”

“My condolences for that,” one of them remarked with a chuckle. “Human, I will wager.”

Braxiatel slapped the joker across the back of his head with the back of his hand. “What are you; _new_? Lady Rose resided with him on Gallifrey for near a decade until they were cruelly ripped apart. I will ask you to show some consideration moving forward – particularly as we are currently meeting in her home.”

The guilty Time Lord rose to his feet and gave her a small bow both of greeting and apology. “Ahh, yes. Do accept my apologies, Lady Rose. I’m quite fresh off my fifth regeneration. My mind is still muddled and functioning ineffectively…”

“You say that like it doesn’t usually function like a leaking valve,” another Lord said with a smirk as he rose to his feet and moved around the table toward Rose and Romana. His hand was extended in greeting. “Hello Rose, it has been a long time.”

She held out her hand for a firm shake and looked at the man with a shortening of her eyes. “I’m sorry, but I don’t recall you and I ever having met.”

“Andred,” he answered her with a dip in his head down toward his chest, wincing when he realised just why she didn’t recognise him. “Ahh, yes. That’s right. I regenerated.”

Rose launched forward to pull him into a hug. “Andred! Oh, it’s been so long.” She pulled back to give him a decent look over. Her lips pursed with appreciation. “Gone from dark and handsome to blonde Glam-hairband-boy bombshell. How’s Leela faring with this new you?”

He flicked his blonde pony tail over his shoulder and looked at her through pinched eyes. “It’s been a good fifty years since my regeneration, Rose. I think she’s used to me by now.”

“Fifty, what?” Her eyes were wide and she shot a look toward Braxiatel, who was now seated at the table and shifting the toddler in his arms for comfort across his knee. “Brax, I only saw them last year. A week before Bad Wolf.” She dipped her chest when he closed his eyes and shook his head. “My God. How long’s it been on Gallifrey since we left?”

“Best we don’t touch to much on that, Rose,” he answered, “lest it make you upset.”

“Too late.” She looked at Romana, impatience flaring in her eyes. “How long?”

“One hundred and fifty years, Rose,” she admitted. She held her hands upward. “Braxiatel and I drop into your timeline a couple to three times a year in our own time”

“I should have worked it out,” Rose sighed to herself with a rub of her hand down her face. “How it is that I can have at least one of you here every day for me and the kids. It makes sense.” She looked to Braxiatel and the tender focus he had on Alirra on his lap. “And how he doesn’t seem to tire of giving them attention.”

“I wouldn’t even if our timelines were in perfect synch,” he muttered without looking at her. “These children are inside my hearts.” He shot a glare up to the other people at the table. “And I will have none of you make any remarks toward the negative toward my feelings about my niece and nephew, am I understood? I am – as you all well know – perfectly capable of killing each and every one of you in such a way that makes regeneration will impossible.”

“Threat noted,” one of the other men seated at the table remarked coolly. “And quite unnecessary. I couldn’t care less if you loved or hated the children, Lord Braxiatel. I’m far more concerned with other items of far more superior importance than giving you a good teasing.”

“Hear hear,” a woman said with agreement. She looked toward Braxiatel. “And If your methods of halting regeneration could also be extended toward resurrection, I would be grateful for that knowledge.”

Another Lord, this one who looked to be no older than about seventeen years of age, let out a quiet and indescribable sound of annoyance. “Rassilon. By the hand of Omega, who’d have thought they’d try to resurrect him?”

“Heading into war,” another chipped out. “And Rassilon is a legendary warrior.”

“Legends are just that, Neral,” he shot back. “Stories with little to no actual substance toward truth.”

Rose watched the verbal tennis match take place for a moment, keeping up as best she could. Finally she looked to Romana with confusion on her face. “What’s going on?” She walked to the fridge to get a cold bottle of water. “And why are you all camped out here?”

Romana followed her into the kitchen. She kept her eyes on the group seated at the table on the other side of the breakfast counter. “War with the Daleks is approaching Kasterborous,” she said quietly. She turned back to face Rose. “There are rumours surrounding council that they want to try and resurrect Rassilon.”

“Hold on, you guys can do that?”

“Not really,” she answered with a hard sigh. “Not outside of the matrix at any rate.” She took the bottle of water from Rose and drew back a long mouthful for herself before handing it back to her. “But the matricians are insisting it’s possible. With an unwinnable war looming, they’re going to grasp at straws searching for any hope at all to win.” She swallowed. “Rassilon is a legend amongst us all. One of our founding fathers. Who better to resurrect outside of the matrix to lead our society to victory?”

Rose heard the fear inside Romana’s voice. “The Doctor didn’t speak all that kindly of Rassilon.”

“Not too many of us do” she agreed. “Not the legends and stories surrounding his later incarnations anyway.” She looked to her husband. “Braxiatel has always been a firm believer that Rassilon was all that is good…”

“He spoke of his collection containing the scrolls of Rassilon.”

Romana nodded. “But that level of devotion and respect is only worth to bestow upon him if the man is dead – and stays dead.” She tapped her fingernails on the tabletop with obvious worry. “Even Brax worries what will rise if they succeed with the resurrection. Noone knows or respects his legend more than he does, and even he says it’s a monumentally bad idea.”

“How will it effect your presidency?”

“I won’t be President,” she answered. “Not once Rassilon rises.” She paused to take a breath. “I will be viewed a competitor and will likely be exiled to some outstation to die quietly.” 

Rose gasped, but she didn’t speak.

“Which is why I invited these Lords and Ladies to your home this evening.”

“You need a safe house?”

Romana nodded. “Somewhere off planet. Somewhere safe. Hidden. These Lords and ladies are my most trusted members of council. We’ve agreed to meet and form a resistance of sorts. Perhaps find a way to move behind the scenes to assist in ending the war without too much bloodshed or collateral damage.” She turned her back to the group, leaning on the counter. Her face remained looking toward Rose. “I should have asked, I know that, and I apologise if I overstepped.”

“Of course not,” Rose assured her. “If you need to use my home as a safe house – an outpost to the war and Rassilon’s rule, then I’d insist you do it.” She smiled. “ My home is yours.”

“Thank you, Rose,” she breathed out long. “We are a small group for now, but I will expect our numbers will grow – which is why I worry for your ability to house whomever may come.”

“A TARDIS in the corner will do the trick,” she said with a shrug. “Which covers off accommodations. Food? Well….” She hiccupped to see her son suddenly burst into the room, with another young dark haired lad hot on his heels. “What the?”

“Marson,” Andred snapped. “I thought I told you to behave yourself.”

“I am, Father,” he said with a dip in his head. “My apology, however, Mark did lead the charge.”

“I did,” Mark agreed with a nod. “Sorry about that, Sir.”

Rose watched her son and his new friend cop an admonishment from Andred with wide eyes. “He and Leela had another?”

“Third,” Romana answered. “All boys. Marson is their youngest.” She chuckled. “Leela says that if and when you and the Doctor can finally be reunited, that you have some catching up to do.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Rose breathed out. She leaned down onto her elbows at the counter when two scruffy young faces popped up over the table. Their eyes were wide and their breaths short. “What can I do for the two of you?”

“I’m hungry,’ Mark answered shortly. “Can you make me something to eat.” He thumbed to Marson beside him. “And him, too. Be a bit rude if I ate in front of him and all that.” He turned and leaned his arm against the back of his chair to look toward the table. “Probably have to make them something too so we aren’t rude to them.”

“I’m not a mess hall,” she chided him. “I’m not cooking for an army.”

“We can order pizza,” he chirped with a smile and a bounce in the chair. He looked at Marson. “Have you had pizza before? It’s so gooooooood. It’s all meaty, and then stringie, and you have to pull it really far out when you take a bite.” he extended his arm from his mouth as though pulling a slice of pizza.

Marson looked up with his brows seated high. “I’ve never tried it. It sounds like fun. May I have pizza please?”

Rose’s mouth slowly formed an “O” shape and she counted off how many people were in her kitchen right now. “I’ll order delivery,” she said with a shrug. She looked toward Braxiatel. “Brax! Toss over your credit card.”

He looked up. “I’m sorry?”

“And not your Gallifreyan one, your Earth one.”

“Why would I give you my credit card?” He tilted his head and a frown crossed his features. “Are you low on funds? Do I need to head back and arrange another few investments for you?”

“I’m ordering pizza,” she answered with a chuckle. “And if I’m plannin’ on feeding all you lot, then you’re paying for it.”


	63. Fires of Pompeii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donna and the Doctor in Pompeii on Volcano Day....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, at the beginning, this might seem like a rewrite, but it's not. Oh not at all....
> 
> Credit to RTD for his wonderful writing for anything here that seems familiar.
> 
> I will not be revisiting every single episode of Donna's run in the TARDIS ... I've selected a few that I want to snaffle, but not all of them. 
> 
> Thrilled to hear from a lot of you about how you enjoy Rose and the in-Laws... awwwwww!! thanks! We visit them next chapter. It's Easter weekend, so not much might get done in terms of writing. But I'll see if the fam will let me hide in the corner and write.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

~~oooOOOooo~~

The Doctor pushed open the door to his TARDIS, ready and raring to show his new companion the sights and sounds of Ancient Rome. His tongue was pressed into the roof of his mouth, his jaw open with expectation as he took the lead and stepped out onto the street. The TARDIS had materialised behind a curtained alcove, and the Doctor was slowly cautious as he swept it to one side with his arm. His face broke out into a smile as he looked down along a street not so unsimilar to a marketplace back home on Gallifrey…

…Oh, how he loved those old marketplaces.

Proud of himself and the belief that he’d landed them precisely where he wanted to go, the Doctor put his hands into his trouser pockets and walked with a sway in his stride. “Ancient Rome,” he said happily. “Well, not for them, obviously. To all intents and purposes, right now, this is brand new Rome.”

Donna stepped up to his side. Thrill was evident on her face as she twirled to take in the sights. “Oh, my God. It’s, it’s so _Roman_. This is fantastic.” At her side the Doctor gave a somewhat facetious laugh. Donna ignored him in favour of continuing to express her glee. “I’m here. In Rome. Donna Noble in Rome.” She stopped short, her eyes wide. “This is just weird. I mean, everyone here’s dead.”

“Don’t tell them that,” he said into her ear as he walked by her. He let out a long breath. “Been a while since I was here.”

“You’ve been here before?”

“Of course I have,” he half snapped in reply. “Been everywhere, me.”

“I’ve heard that song,” she said with a laugh. “When was the last time you were here?”

“With Rose,” he said with a dip in his happiness. “In the year 120.” His voice became almost breathy, distracted as he looked around with one brow raised curiously. “She became a goddess to them actually. Well. Not so much the Goddess herself, but had one created in her image at any rate.” His voice quietened even further and he looked upward with a stretch in his neck that made his voice come out almost strangled. “Only time I kissed her in this body was here. In Rome.”

“Yeah? Which one then?” she asked with a grin, not quite as distracted as he was.

“What, the _kiss_?” He looked a bit off put by that question. “Oh, well. It was short, more of an _I’m so happy you saved me_ closed-mouth peck than anything more salacious or tongue-filled.” He scratched his sideburn. “Although she gasped when I kissed her, which did provide the opening for a small taste of her, which meant it was more than just a dry set of lips against lips. Passion, there was definitely passion. From my end anyway, not so much hers. Much more surprised…” He stopped when he realised that Donna had stopped walking and was now about three paces behind him. He turned to face her. “Donna?”

She looked both amused and disgusted at the same time. “What are you on about?”

“You asked me about the kiss,” he answered back. “I was just answering you.”

“Why would you think I wanted to know about how _you_ kiss?” she shot out with incredulity. “I asked you about the Goddess and which one Rose was.” She walked up to him again and eyed him up and down with deliberate arrogant scrutiny. “Whatever you want to get up to with those lips and tongue of yours, I’d much rather not know about, thanks.” She slapped her tongue to the roof of her mouth to accent her distaste for it.

He watched her walk by, his eyes on her with the mildest amount of offence. “Yes. Well. Moving on, then.” He stopped when her hand flicked up to hit him in the chest. So as not to actually hit his chest against her hand, his stop had him rolling up onto his toes and curling backward. “What?”

“You’re havin’ me on, aren’t you, Spaceman?”

He looked around, a curl in his lip. “What do you mean?”

She pointed ahead of them. “That sign over there. It’s in English.” She spun to him. “Are you having me on? Are we in Epcot?”

He looked at the sign with his eyes wide and curious. When he saw the sign, his expression fell to amusement. “Oh no. No, no, no. That’s the TARDIS Translation Circuits. Just makes it _look_ like English. Speech as well.” He grinned and walked around her, talking in her ear as he passed. “You’re talking Latin right now.”

She gasped. “Seriously?”

He hummed with a smile.

“I just said _seriously_ in _Latin_.”

“You’ve said a lot in Latin since we go there,” he corrected her. He dipped into a small cheeky bow with his hands inside his trouser pockets, and a smile on his face as a woman with a white painted face and a red robe walked by. “Hello.”

She looked him up and down, then looked at Donna, but continued walking.

Donna looked down at her clothes and then shot a look back to him. “Don’t our clothes look a bit odd to them? Or is this where you tell me that the TARDIS also has a wardrobe circuit.”

He scratched at the back of his head and actually thought about that one. “I don’t know. Maybe she does. There are probably a couple of things about the old girl I haven’t discovered yet.”

“Doctor,” she huffed with a tug at her skirt. “Enough babble. Are we okay like this?”

“Oh yeah,” he chirped with a light frown in his brow. “No need to worry about that. This is Ancient Rome, anything goes. Bit like Soho, only bigger.” He looked around, his tongue once again finding the back of his teeth. “And far less of those hipster types.” He hummed. “You’d expect them to be looming by now. Where is everything?” He flicked his hand to her to ask to follow him. “Let’s try this way.”

They both jogged to the end of a street, both skidding to a stop at the sight of a single large bare-headed mountain at the end of the street.

“Now I’m no expert,” Donna ventured. “But there’s seven hills of Rome, aren’t there? How come they’ve got only one?” she gasped as the ground started to shake beneath her feet. “What? Wait a minute,” she looked at the Doctor with worry. “One mountain, with smoke. Which makes this…”

“Pompeii,” he finished for her, confirming her sudden suspicion. “We’re in Pompeii, and it’s volcano day.”

Together they ran, his hand finding hers in the hope that it would pull her with him faster. Hi voice was a low growl of urgency. “Come on, Donna.”

He threw open the curtain expecting to see his beloved blue ship but was horrified to find it gone. He huffed out with confusion, his hand flying up along his brow into his hair. He said nothing. Instead, Donna spoke ahead of him.

“You’re kidding. Don’t tell me the TARDIS is gone.”

“Okay,” he answered dutifully.

She gave him a glare. “Where is it, then?”

“You told me not to tell you,” he answered with a shrug.

“Oi,” she growled out. “Don’t you get clever in Latin.”

“Why not Latin?” he shot back as he looked around at the people milling around. “I’m clever in 8 billion other languages. Why should Latin be left out?” He didn’t wait for her to comment. “Hold on.” 

The Doctor ran toward a street vendor, a man selling fruit. “Excuse me. Excuse me. There was a box, a big blue box. Big blue wooden box.” He gestured behind him with both hands. “Just over there. Where’s it gone?”

The man smirked an expression of pride. “Sold it, didn’t I?”

A crease formed in his brow and his lips curled upward. “But it wasn’t yours to sell.”

He shrugged. “It was on my patch, weren’t it? “

“Who’d you sell it to?”

He jutted his chin upward and down the alley. “Old Caecilius.” He looked back at the Doctor. “Look. If you want to argue, why don’t you take it out with him? He’s on Foss Street. Big Villa. Can’t miss it.”

“Right,” the Doctor said with a nod. “Thanks.” He walked away, but then paused and walked back. “Why’d he want to buy a big wooden box for?”

~~oooOOOooo~~

“Oh, look at you,” Caecilius purred out thankfully as the delivery men walked away from the big blue box. He watched as the deliverers left his villa and clapped his hands together. “I have missed you.”

He reached into the folds of his brown and golden robe and pulled free a key. “Right. Got you back, let’s get inside and take a quick look…” He stabbed his key at the lock and frowned when it wouldn’t insert. He tried again, then lifted it to look at the end of his key. He closed one eye, managing to lift his lip at the same time, and leaned down to take a look at the small slot on the door. “Wonder why you won’t fit?”

“Oh thank God you found it,” a woman chirped behind him, and it made him cringe. Her voice wasn’t so unpleasant by itself, but when it was combined with the smug irritation of a woman who really found nothing in life to make her in any way pleasant, it grated on him.

“It certainly appears so,” he gruffed in reply as he lifted his hand to wipe his thumb along the small gold disk that surrounded the lock. “Though it seems that our time away from her might have caused some rusting in the lock.” He straightened. “I’ll have to see what I can do to clear it out.”

“You’ll make it quick, yeah?” she asked hotly. “I’ll make sure that the kids are ready to leave.”

“Yeah,” he breathed out. “Sure.” He watched in his peripheral as she walked through a corridor toward the bed quarters and then stood up straight. He scrubbed his nails through closely cropped, thick curly hair as he stalked a pacing circle in front of the time ship. Oh, what a hellish four years this had been. Stuck outside his time. Stuck without his TARDIS. Stuck with a companion and her pair of young adult children who absolutely despised him…

...Stuck in a city that was about a day away from being obliterated completely.

How did he get himself stuck in a mess like this? Trapped with a trio of thieving stowaways in Pompeii, more than two millennia away from being able to even send out a call for help?

Well. There was a very simple answer to _that_ question: He was the Doctor.

~~oooOOOooo~~

The Doctor in pinstripes ran from the vendor toward his companion. He didn’t even bother pausing his jog to snatch her hand and drag her into a run at his side – well, behind him if her stumble and the tug of his arm in its socket was anything to go by. He tugged back, hoping to pull her to stability and into an actual run rather than a flopping stagger. “Come on, Donna. I’ve got location. Foss Street’s this way.”

She got her bearings and her stability, but kept her stride deliberately slower than his to pull him back. “Wait, Doctor.”

He let out a huff and stopped running. His hand still clutched at hers, and he jumped impatiently on the spot. “What?”

Her head bounced with each one of his full body bounces. “You’re a right little Tigger, aren’t you?”

“Get on with it,” he huffed.

She pushed her hair from her face and looked back over her shoulder. “I found this big sort of amphitheatre thing. We can start there, you know.”

“But I already know where to find the TARDIS.” He tugged on her hand, hoping it might pull her into running with him. “This way.”

She pulled her hand from his and shook it in front of her to take out the kinks. “Yeah. The TARDIS can wait. We need to get everyone together, in the amphitheatre.” Her eyes widened and her lips puckered. “Oh! Maybe they’ve got a great big bell or something we can ring.”

He stopped bouncing and tipped his head to one side. His eyes narrowed with question. “What do you want a bell for?”

“To warn everyone,” she shot back urgently. “Start the evacuation.” She looked off to one side in thought. Her voice lessened somewhat. “What time does Vesuvius erupt?” She looked at him again. “When’s it due?”

He slipped his hands into his trouser pockets and looked up at the sky. His eyes closed briefly as though getting his bearings, and then he looked back to her. “It’s 79AD, Twenty third of August, which makes volcano day tomorrow.”

She actually looked relieved. “That gives us plenty of time. We could get everyone out.”

“Yeah,” he drawled. “Except we’re not going to.”

“But that’s what you do,” she corrected him. “You’re the Doctor. You save people.”

He shook his head. “No,” he said sharply. “Not this time. Pompeii is a fixed point in history. What happens, happens. There’s no stopping it.”

“Says who?” she growled petulantly in reply. 

“Says me.”

She huffed. “What, and you’re in charge?”

His eyes rolled and he tipped his head side to side. “TARDIS. Time Lord. Yeah.”

Her eyes hardened into challenge. “Donna. Human. No, I don’t need your permission.” She lifted her nose. “I’ll tell them myself.”

He threw up his hands. “Fine. Stand in the middle of the market place and announce the end of the world.” He gestured to the street with a flick of his hand. “Go on, then. Be just like one of those sign-wearing doomsday people back in London crying out the same thing.” He leaned into her. “Tell me just how seriously you take them when they start yelling into your face about doom and gloom and the end of the Earth. Hmm?”

“The difference between me and them, Spaceman, is that I actually know for a fact it’s gonna happen.”

He hummed again. “Then go right ahead. In the meantime, I’m going to find my TARDIS.” He turned and started to walk away, then paused and turned around. He thumbed at his nose. “Oh, and just so you know. Romans aren’t particularly opposed to public stoning of people they consider mad.” He looked her up and down. “A strange woman, wearing strange clothing, crying the end of the earth and death to all…” He smirked and turned back around. “Good luck on that.”

She walked up to his side, an unimpressed curl in her lip. “This isn’t over, you know that, right?”

“I had a feeling you’d say that.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Caecilius looked up from the TARDIS with a huff as the ground shook beneath his feet. The tremors from Vesuvius were coming harder and with much more frequency than had been the pattern over the past few weeks. And of course they were. That big mountain was about to blow – in 23 hours and 13 minutes time if his time sense was functioning correctly.

Caecilius rushed through his living room, skidding his leather sandal soles along the marble floor, as the ground shook beneath them once again. Pointless though it was given that this place would be buried under tonnes of molten magna, he felt it somewhat prudent to at least try to save some of the artwork he’d collected over the few years he’d been here. Give those archaeologists something to find when they dug them all out in two millennia.

A man in a long coat and a head of hair artfully tousled into a wild spike on top let out a sound of surprise as he caught the marble bust he’d been heading for. He spun to face Caecilius with a grin on his face.

“Woah.” He held out the bust at the same moment he was admiring it. “There you go.”

Caecilius stilled in place, his eyes wide and his expression somewhat shocked. Oh, no wonder he wouldn’t get into the TARDIS. It wasn’t his. He hid his disappointment in that fact, and then had to also quell the shock of seeing this man. This very specific version of him at least.

…Had he come to Pompeii with the intent to perform his rescue? Could he actually be that lucky?

He opened his mouth to exclaim his thrill at seeing him, but swallowed it when he saw Donna walk in behind him.

Oh, Rassilon, no. So much for rescue … That hadn’t been part of this adventure.

The Doctor pushed the bust toward him with a little more urging than he had originally. “Well? Do you want it?”

Caecilius shook himself of his thoughts and quickly took the bust from the Doctor. “Oh yes. Yes, indeed. Thank you for rescuing it for me. I’m afraid I just wasn’t quick enough this time, and it would be a shame to see it shattered into nothing.”

“Quite,” the Doctor answered as he took a look around. Toward the wall he could see his time ship, and he let out a smile. Rather than launch into an immediate haggle to reclaim the TARDIS, he made an effort to look around. He hummed with appreciation. “Very nice place you have here.” He looked at him. “Caecilius, is it?”

“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage,” Caecilius countered. Oh, he’d always wanted to say that. “You know who I am, but I don’t know you.”

“Spartacus,” the Doctor answered without falter. “I am Spartacus.”

Donna waved with her fingers. “So am I?”

Oh, but this could be fun, Caecilius thought to himself. He smiled a cheeky smile and looked between them. “Mr. and Mrs. Spartacus?”

The look of horror that crossed not only the Doctor’s face, but Donna’s was worth it.

“Oh no, no, no,” the Doctor said quickly. He flicked his hand between he and Donna. “We’re not.” He cleared his throat. “We’re not married.”

Donna shook her head. “We’re not together. At least not like _that_.” The vehemence in her voice as to there being no chance of togetherness between the two of them actually had the Doctor appear to be slightly offended.

“Ahh,” Caecilius drawled through an open mouth. “Brother and sister, then.” He narrowed his eyes in scrutiny. “Yes. Yes, of course. I can see the resemblance.”

The Doctor and Donna looked at each other, both of their expressions a mirror of each others. They looked to Caecilius with puzzlement. “Really?”

He tipped his shoulders up into a shrug. “Close enough at any rate.” He let out a breath as he saw his _wife_ and _children_ walk into the room. “Metella,” he called out with an uncharacteristic chirp of happiness to see her. He spun to look at the three of them, warning in his eyes. “Look! We have visitors.”

The young man, a pretty boy with dark hair and eyes, but lacking any form of warmth at all, looked around Caecilius shoulder toward the pair. “Shop’s closed,” he drawled out. “Come back later.”

Caecilius clapped his hands together, and held them together as he turned. He gave both of them a look of apology. “I’m afraid Quintus is correct. We aren’t open for business right now.” He dropped his hands and tipped his head to one side, his eyes not on either of his visitors. “Perhaps if you come back tomorrow?”

“If there is one,” Quintus muttered. He huffed at a small tremor under their feet. “That volcano’s set to blow, I just know it.”

The Doctor took a step forward. “I’m sorry,” he drawled with a narrowing of his eyes. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Caecilius answered quickly. Panic in his voice. “He said nothing of concern. You shouldn’t worry about what my son says. He’s hungover. Too much wine last evening.”

“Hungover,” the Doctor repeated slowly with an equally slow nod of his head. “I see.”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “He is. Quite. Seems to be a default condition of late with my beloved son.” He turned back to the small family. “Doesn’t it, Son? Now if you wouldn’t mind, dear family, would you give me a moment to speak with our visitors?”

“Whatever,” Quintus said with a mutter and a rub at his brow. He walked slowly in a circle to depart before his mother and sister. He stopped just short of leaving and looked toward them. “Well? You heard him. Let’s leave the old man to his business.”

Metella walked up to Caecilius, leaning up onto her toes to talk into his face. Her eyes were an expression of warning. “Get rid of them. We need you to get into that box and get us back home.”

“Yes,” he replied softly. “I know. Just give me a few minutes, okay?”

“Five,” she growled.

He looked upward to the ceiling and counted as he let out a breath. He waited for her to leave and lowered his head to look upon the Doctor and Donna with a half smile on his face. “Do excuse my _wife’s_ apparent disdain toward visitors. I had promised her a day without commerce…”

“I see,” the Doctor replied suspiciously. His suspicion seemed to quickly shift toward joviality. “So where were we, then? Ahh yes. I was remarking on the loveliness of your home.”

“There is a reason for your visit, I expect,” Caecilius cut in quickly. There was no sense in playing the idle chatter game. Really, it quite annoyed him to talk about weather and the beauty our someone’s home. He expected that the man in front of him held the same kind of regard for such things…

Well, not expected. He knew it to be fact.

“So what can I do for you?”

The Doctor’s jaw dropped just slightly and he exhaled through his mouth. “Inspector,” he answered as he held up his small leather wallet to display his psychic paper. “Of Marble.”

“I see,” Caecilius remarked softly. “I wasn’t aware that there were marble inspectors outside of Rome.”

“Auditing the outlaying lands, he answered with a walk around the room. He paused in front of the TARDIS, a light smile tugging at his lips. 

“That’s not marble,” Caecilius cautioned him.

“No it’s not,” he agreed as he pressed his hand against it. “It’s wood.”

Caecilius stepped up beside him. He leaned his forearm high at his head on the doors of the TARDIS. “You’re not a marble inspector, are you?”

“And you’re not an ancient Pompeiian,” he answered back without looking at him. His eyes were on the window ledge of his ship. 

“And how’d you come to that conclusion?”

“Not hard to work out, _really_.” He drawled out, finally turning to lean his shoulder against the door. He crossed his legs at the ankle, pressing the toe of his Converse into the floor. His arms shifted to fold across his chest. “The first clue was your son referring to the mountain outside as being a volcano. This is 79AD. To the people here Vesuvius is a mountain. They don’t even have a word for volcano yet…”

“Not until tomorrow at any rate,” Caecilius said with a nod. “When the top blows off it.”

“And then you used the term hungover to describe your son’s current condition.” His lip turned. “That word doesn’t quite crop until the turn of the twentieth century … in reference to alcohol, that is.”

“1904 to be specific,” Caecilius agreed with a nod.

“Who are you?” the Doctor asked with a narrowing of his eyes. 

Caecilius smirked and waggled his brows. “Guess.”

The Doctor shifted his weight and tightened the fold of his arms across his chest. “I would have suggested you were a Time Lord, but I’d have been able to sense your presence the moment I materialised here. So you’re not one of them.” He looked upward at the movement of Caecilius’ hand next to his head. He twirled a golden band around his ring finger. “Ahh,” he drawled. “Bio-dampener.”

Caecilius drew his hand down and looked at the ring he’d worn as both a symbol to signify the _marriage_ he had with his _wife_. He let out a sigh. “It is. Both a device to hide my true biological nature, and a prisoner’s cuff to bind me to a woman and her children.”

“I take it she’s neither your wife, nor are her children yours?”

“By Rassilon, no.” He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Unfortunate incident on Earth during the 21st century. Family of degenerate thieves broke into my Capsule and managed to get lost on their search for things to steal. I was in flight when they appeared on the command deck, all indignant and threatening to have me arrested for kidnap. I tried to head back with the fast-return switch, but my capsule crash-landed outside of town. We went looking for help, ended up quite lost, and so I haven’t been able to return to her to get that lot home.” He looked at the band. “In order to forge any kind of believable existence here, marriage was the only option available to us.”

The Doctor leaned into him, his eyes narrowed to slits. “Are you me, then?”

“No,” he answered shortly. “I’m not.” His own eyes relaxed in their steeled expression. “I know your next question: No. I’m not one of the bad ones.” He smiled. “But I am one of the good ones. One you get to know quite well in your future.”

“But I don’t know you now?”

His eyes flicked up to Donna, who was quietly watching them with a sense of both wonder and fear. He looked back to the Doctor. “No. Not really. Not just yet. Not _this_ you, anyway. We’ve more met in passing in your current timeline.”

Realisation crossed the Doctor’s features. “Ahh. The Cerulean. Tom, isn’t it?” He shrugged and looked him over. “Can’t say that the regenerations have been too kind on you.” He preened and adjusted his tie with both hands. “We’re supposed to get better looking as we burn through our regenerations. Or is that just me?”

“Just a little bit rude,” he remarked. “And no. I’m not a Cerulean.”

“Who are you?”

“A friend,” he said with a smile as he walked toward Donna. He took her hand in both of his. “Donna, it’s been a long while since I’ve seen you. I hope that you’re keeping the old man in line.”

Donna tilted her head at him. “Do I know you?” She looked at the Doctor. “Do I know him?”

“Not yet,” the Doctor answered with a shrug. He walked over and forcibly removed her hand from Caecilius’. “Hands off the redhead,” he growled and poked a finger at him. “I’m tiring of you prowling Gallifreyan males taking my companions from me. Stay away from her.”

“Oi!” she snapped at him. “I don’t need you tellin’ me who I can and can’t talk to, you know, Doctor. I’m perfectly capable of telling him to sod off myself.”

“I bet you are,” he growled in reply. “But blokes like him…” he thumbed a gesture toward Caecilius. “Oh, I don’t trust them. Not at all. All sneaky when it comes to using their wiles to woo a female.” He pointed to Caecilius and then pointed to his eyes. “Watching you.”

He looked amused and bit a smile. “Yeah. Right. Course you are.”

“I mean it,” the doctor snarled as he turned to walk toward the TARDIS. “I’d better check on the old girl.” He looked over her shoulder at the pair of them. “Not canoodling or making kissing plans while I’m inside, am I making myself clear?”

Caecilius chuckled as the Doctor turned back toward the TARDIS and pulled open the door. “Yes, _Dad_. Perfectly clear.”

Donna’s face stretched out in surprise. “Hang about. You’re his…?”

His hand shot up to his mouth. He winked as he pressed a finger against his lips and hushed out a playful sound. “You can’t tell him.”

“Bollocks I can’t,’ she snapped in reply. “And I’m getting pretty tired of being told what I can and can’t tell people today.”

“He can’t know,” Caecilius warned her. “It could disrupt timelines if you do.”

“And what, I’m supposed to just ignore the fact that while he’s spent the last year looking for you and your mum, you’re right here?” She stepped into him. “You can tell him where to find you. End his pain.”

“It’s not that simple,” he lectured with a wince at himself for adopting his father’s method for explanation. “Me, Mum, and Dad. Well, it’s complicated.”

“Then uncomplicate it,” she demanded. “That Dumbo in the TARDIS. He needs his family. His heart is broken, and I know from what I’ve see myself that it makes him dangerous.”

“Hearts,” Caecilius corrected.

“I’m sorry?”

“Hearts,” he repeated. “He’s got two of them. Two big strong hearts hammering away in there.” His brows pinched. “That’s probably an important thing for you to know, really. Just in case he gets into trouble and you need to give him CPR or something. Might be best you have him show you how to do that … bit different for Time Lords than for humans.” His lips pursed and he tilted his head to one side in thought. “Mouth to mouth is the same, of course.”

“Yeah, don’t need him showin’ me that,” she gruffed. 

“But in all seriousness, Donna.” He huffed out. “You can’t tell him. If he finds out who I am, he’ll be at me like a damn Trunkike. All peck, peck, peck, scratch, scratch, scratch looking for information he’s not allowed to have just yet.”

“But…”

“Soon,” he assured her, placing his hands on her shoulders. He looked into her face, projecting as much assurance and honesty as he could. “Trust me, Donna. It’s not too long from now. Dad’s just got a few things he has to do first before he’s ready to be with Mum again.”

Her eyes were wide, and he head low, her expression begging him. “Than you promise me that. Promise me he finds you all.”

He snapped her in for a hug, holding her face in his shoulder. “I promise you.” He sighed when her arms came up to hold at his back. “And it’s going to be _brilliant_ when he does.” He loosened his hold and looked down into her face with a smile. “But right now you and him, you’ve got quite an adventure ahead of you.”

The Doctor’s voice boomed angrily from the doors of the TARDIS. “I thought I told you to stay away from my companion!”

~~oooOOOooo~~

The sky overhead darkened with horrific speed as the Doctor and Donna ran hand in hand along the street. Both of them ran with one arm held over their foreheads as a shield from the falling ash and rock from the volcano erupting behind them.

“Come on, Donna,” he growled with warning as he tugged for her to run faster. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

“So do they!” she called back, at least a full two strides behind him and struggling with the pull of her arm ahead of her. She jerked her hand from his and twirled to run a backward stride to yell to the people fleeing the town behind her. “No! Don’t go to the beach! Go to the hills!” She staggered to a stop. “Don’t g to the beach! It’s not safe. Listen to me.”

The Doctor snatched her hand and pulled her toward him. His eyes gave her warning before he spoke. “Donna. They’re not going to listen to you. Take it from me…” He tugged her hand and started them running again. “Noone listens to me.”

Together they ran into Caecilius’ villa, in through the entrance, through the living room, and to the TARDIS that sat in the corner of the room. The Doctor dropped Donna’s hand as he dug in his pocket for the keys, he didn’t notice Caecilius seated by himself against the wall in a slouch, while his family huddled together near to the other side of it.

Donna did and skidded to a fast stop. “Doctor. Wait!”

“Come on, Donna,” he called as he weaved around the doorway of the TARDIS, which slammed shut behind him. 

“No!” she cried out. “Doctor, you can’t. Doctor!”

The sound of the engines started to howl and whine throughout the room.

“Donna,” Caecilius said firmly. “Go. Don’t you worry about us.”

“How can I not?” she yelled as she dropped to a crouch in front of him. There was terror in her eyes as fat tears rolled down her cheeks. “He can’t just leave you here like this.”

“I’ve lived a pretty good life,” he said with a wink and a smile. “made it to fifteen hundred, I did.” He looked up. “Not sure if I can regenerate in lava.” He let out a humph. “Guess I’ll find out.” He looked to his family at the other end of the wall. “Just wish they didn’t have to suffer this.” 

“He’s not leaving you here,” she growled. She turned back to the TARDIS, whose engines were now roaring loudly in warning. She looked back to him. “Be right back.”

“Don’t, Donna.” He held up his hand. “You can’t tell him, Donna. You can’t!”

She leapt to her feet and rushed into the TARDIS, the Doctor’s name belching loudly out of his mouth.

Caecilius huffed and pulled himself to his feet as the blue ship disappeared from view. He walked to the three people who had the unfortunate luck to have broken into his TARDIS and got stuck with him. He lowered himself to his knees and wrapped his arms around the group. “I’m sorry,” he said sadly. “I’m so sorry.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Donna exploded onto the ramp, and marched upward with all the might of a super tornado.

“Go back,” she demanded angrily. “Now, Doctor. Go back and save them.”

“Don’t you think I’ve done enough?” He snarled without looking at her. He was rough with the levers on the console. “History is back in place, and everyone dies.”

“I’m telling you,” she near sobbed. “You’ve got to go back. Doctor, I’m telling you, take this thing back. You have to!” She panted a second as she thought of everyone left back in the path of the volcano, and to one man specifically who would rather sacrifice himself than damage whatever these timeline things were. “It’s not fair.”

“No,” he agreed. “It’s not.”

She looked to him, her eyes sodden and swollen. “How can you just sit back and let that happen to them. To all of them. Doctor, your own planet burned…”

“That’s just it!” he interrupted her sharply. There was fury, regret, and sadness in his voice. “Don’t yu see, Donna? Can’t you understand? If I could go back and save them, then I would.” He drew in a pair of hard breaths. “But I can’t. I can never go back.” His head dropped. “I can’t. I just can’t. I can’t.”

“You have to,” she pleaded. “If only just Caecilius and his family. Doctor. He’s a Time Lord…”

The Doctor’s eyes closed as he repeated the title. “I can’t.”

Oh fuck the Timelines. Donna wasn’t going to let anyone sacrifice anything – not if she had anything to do with it. “Doctor. You have to go back and get him.” His head flicked to her ready to argue. “Doctor,” she pleaded. “Please don’t leave him there. Don’t leave your son there to die.”

Utter devastation crossed his face. “What?”

“He’s your son, Doctor.” She pleaded. “Caecilius is your son. Please don’t leave him there to die. Save him.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

His hearts sank in his chest when he heard the whine and wheeze of the TARDIS rematerializing in place. Immediately he knew that Donna had let slip the secret he’d told her to keep. He closed his eyes, testing the timelines to see just how much of a disruption was enroute and what level of damage control he was going to have to work at to stabilise it.

For now, they seemed stable enough, and he looked back as the door opened. With the rather over dramatic effect of the bright lights of the interior of the ship making him look more a God than a man, his father stood at the doorway, his hand extended to him.

“Come with me.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Two identical TARDISes stood side by side atop a green hillside, watching as fire an ask fell onto the streets of Pompei below them. The two men stood apart from the rest of the group, the members of their respective parties understanding that now would be a good time to leave them to talk.

“I wish they knew they are never forgotten,” the Doctor breathed out sadly. “That in time Pompeii will be found again and their stories become legends.”

“Legends that will make them so much than any of them ever were,” Caecilius agreed.

“Is it true what Donna told me,” the Doctor managed with a measure of hope in his voice. “Are you my son.”

One side of his mouth lifted into a smile. “I told her not to tell you that.” He nodded and turned his head to look at his father. “But yeah. Hi Dad. Long time no see.”

“Mark?” he asked gently.

He looked down at his hand and used his fingers to remove the ring from his finger. “Guess I don’t need this anymore,” he said softly as he popped it into his belt. “Uncomfortable sodding thing it is.”

Almost immediately, the Doctor’s entire demeanour shifted as he inhaled a deep breath and took in the telepathic signature of his eldest child. His exhale shook and shuddered. “You didn’t need to hide from me,” he said after a moment.

“Yeah, I did,” he drawled. “Your timelines aren’t yet stable.” He inhaled. “I didn’t know if it would be safe or not.”

The Doctor turned sharply toward him. “And so you’d let yourself die. You’d let your companions die? Because you were worried about timelines?”

Mark slumped. “Well what other choice did I have? This is big, Dad. Big.”

“Nothing’s too big for us to handle,” he corrected him. “At least not big enough that you should be willing to die for it. Not without giving me a chance to make it right first.”

“Yeah,” he drawled with is eyes to the blackened sky in the distance. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time, all right?”

The Doctor cleared his throat and looked down to the grass at his feet. “So…?”

“I’m not telling you anything, so don’t bother asking,” he interrupted sharply. “Timelines, remember. Yours aren’t stable yet.” He lowered his head. “I’m not telling you how to find us.”

“But you can tell me if I _do_ find you,” he corrected shortly. 

“Yeah,” Mark answered, saying nothing further.

“Yeah to what?” the Doctor shot in sharply. “Feel like expanding on that a little so I know what you were actually responding to?”

“Not really,” he replied with a shrug. He turned to his father and offered him a one-sided grin. “Though I reckon if you’re a smart lad you can work it out for yourself.” He flicked his head toward his TARDIS, tall and blue, and wearing the POLICE BOX decals and signage that were synonymous with the Time Lord Doctor. 

Both men turned to gaze upon the twin TARDISes.

“There’s only one of them in the entire universe,” Mark said with a smile across his face. “Our beautiful ship.”

“How long?” he asked.

“I can’t tell you that.”

“You can tell me though, if you’re all safe where you are right now?” He looked to his son, now an adult that looked much older than he was right now. “That you’re not fending for yourselves lost and alone.”

His head shook and he wore a smile on his face. “Honestly, Dad. There’s no one safer and more well protected and taken care of than Mum, Me, and Aly.”

“Aly?”

“That’s enough poking and prodding from you,” he warned. He moved forward and wrapped his arms around his father’s shoulders in a hug that was awkward for the both of them. “You’re in my hearts, Dad. Remember that, yeah?” He shifted to separate and found himself caught. His father wasn’t letting him go just yet. “Ehm. Dad. Just a warning, that I’m really not a hugger this time around.”

“Well I am,” he answered back. “So deal with it. Because I’m not letting you go until you give me something, _anything_ , to give me hope that this doesn’t last too much longer.”

“hmmmm,” he hummed. “How cryptic can I make this?”

“Just tell me,” he huffed as he let him go. 

“You’re still you,” he answered with a wink. “So with your recent track record, that should be easy enough to work out, yeah?” He walked toward his TARDIS and scratched at his head. There was a smirk on his face. “Course, you’ve been you now for more than a millennia in my timeline, so who knows?” He turned and walked backward, flicking at his temples. “Gettin’ a bit grey around here, too, finally.”

“That’s not very much help,” he called back.

He opened the door of his TARDIS and let his trio of reluctant companions onboard. “In my hearts, Dad. Remember that.”

“And you,” he called back as the doors to the TARDIS closed. “Always, my son.” He watched as the ship disappeared from view with a howl and a whine and let out a huff. He felt Donna’s presence at his side. “Thank you,” he said to her with genuine gratitude in his voice. “If you’d kept your promise to him, I would have lost my son.”

“Nah,” she drawled. “Never let that happen.”

He scratched at his sideburn and began a slow walk toward his own TARDIS. “So? This was a bit of a tough one for you, Donna. Do you still want to stay with me?”

She chuckled at his side. “Course I do, Dumbo,” she answered with a nudge at his shoulder with hers. “Said it before, you need someone, Doctor.”

“Yeah,” he agreed as he pushed open the door and let her step in ahead of him. “You’re right, Donna. I do need someone.”

~~oooOOOooo~~


	64. Sontaran Stratagem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, Martha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, I snuck it right in today .... hid myself and wrote .... like totally hid myself to do this.
> 
> Bad bad me.
> 
> Okay. This is going to raise some questions. mmHmmm. The only one I'll actually answer here is just why Brax is talking English ... translation circuit in play, yeah, okay? I couldn't be arsed switching between the two languages tonight.
> 
> I really, really hope that you enjoy this chapter. It has to take you to Monday, because there is no way at all I'll be able to manage anything tomorrow. :(
> 
> Again, if you recognise it, then RTD or one of his wonderful writers wrote it. :)

~~oooOOOooo~~

There was an air of excitement in the TARDIS console room as the Doctor attempted to teach Donna how to pilot the old time ship. Well, okay, not teach her how to fly it alone, but at least give her a little bit of understanding to mybe give him a hand every once in a while. And really, what harm could it do?

…Ahhhh, no sooner asked…

“I can’t believe I’m doing this!” she half cheered with excitement.

“No, nether can I.” He tried hard to hide the grit in his teeth as he leaned forward on the console to make a slight adjustment. “Oh, careful.” He leaned down to retrieve the hammer he had been using of late to make _minor_ adjustments to the flight plans. He flipped up a lever then stepped back, hoping she’d go back to exactly what she’d been doing before. His eyes flashed when she made a move toward the absolute wrong lever.

“Left hand down, Left hand down.” He stumbled and rached out to grab at her arm as the TARDIS pitched to one side. “Getting a bit too close to the 1980’s.”

She eyeballed him with a sideways glance. “What am I going to do? Put a dent in them?”

His eyes flashed and rolled but didn’t look at her. “Well,” he drawled. “Someone did.”

She looked at him to ask him to maybe elaborate on that a little, but ended up instead gasping at the sound of a ringing phone. “Hold on, that’s a phone.”

He listened curiously for a moment. He cautiously strode around the console and eyeballed a mobile phone ringing in a socket on his console. With a slight tic in his eye he retrieved the phone.

“You’ve got a mobile?” she asked him with her brows seated high. She’d never seen him chat on a phone before – come to think of it, did he have any friends around to have random phone calls with?

“It’s not mine,’ he answered carefully as he opened the phone and brought it to his ear. He swallowed and sat back on the jumpseat, steeling himself for the call. His voice was cautious. “Hello?”

He knew who would be on the other end and held the phone in between his ear and shoulder. He was in motion to set materialisation coordinates before the person replied to his guarded greeting. 

“I’m on my way,” he answered softly. He disconnected the call without saying goodbye and slipped the phone into his pocket.

Donna watched him carefully. The complete lack of expression on his face meant that whomever was on the other end had definitely called unexpectedly – and quite likely not entirely welcomed to do so. She did her best to listen in, disappointed that he said very little on his end…

…Very unusual for this babbling fool.

“Who was that?” she asked him curiously. Watching the way he leaned forward on the console with both hands and looked up into the time rotor column had her concerned.

“A friend.”

“A friend?” she parroted with a lift in her brow. “Obviously not a very good one…”

“Actually,” he corrected gently. “She’s a very good friend. I just didn’t expect to hear from her so soon.” 

He pressed off the console when the whining of the rotor fell to silence. He then spun on his toe and walked to the door. “Coming?” he called over his shoulder.

Well, she wasn’t entirely sure if she should or not. The Doctor didn’t seem as though he was all that excited to receive the call, nor did he seem entirely thrilled to have to do a stop off and visit the caller. She remained at the top of the ramp to let him venture out before her.

The Doctor stepped into what appeared to be a rather bright and almost inviting alleyway of sorts. He looked to his right, and then left, and stilled. There she was. Martha Jones. The one who had chosen to leave him right when he felt he might just need her more than ever…

Or was it that he was jealous of her desire to leave him for another man…

No, it was that he needed her soothing presence. He’d just lost his best friend … his enemy … his childhood friend. He needed some comfort and assurance … and most of all: company. He needed to be assured that sometimes, people stayed.

…Everyone he cared about. They all left. All of them.

He stepped fully outside the TARDIS and stood in a guarded posture with one hand in his trouser pocket, the other hanging down one side of him. “Martha Jones,” he said on a rather chilly breath.

“Doctor,” she answered back with much the same level of chill has he had offered. 

They stood in their respective positions for a moment, both inching small steps forward. Then, almost simultaneously, their slow strides shifted to a run toward each other. He both purred and growled with happiness when he scooped her up into his arms and hugged her tightly enough to lift her from the ground.

“You haven’t changed a bit,” he observed with a smile hoping beyond hope that didn’t come across as rude.

“Neither have you,” she replied in kind, shifting her hair from her mouth and rewarding him with a smile that had the potential to light up more than one constellation.

“How’re the family?”

“You know,” she answered. “Not so bad. Recovering.” Her smile faltered somewhat when she saw Donna step out of the TARDIS behind him.

“What about you?”

Her eyes shifted to him. Her disappointment was obvious. “ Right. Should have known,” she said, battling to try and remain smiling and happy. She even slapped him on the shoulder. “Didn’t’ take too long to replace me, then?”

Annoyance and worry for how the rest of this encounter was to proceed from here was crystal clear. He leaned toward her ear and was quiet, but firm. “Now, don’t start fighting.” He cleared his throat and straightened up. “Martha, Donna. Donna, Martha. Please don’t fight.” He huffed at the immediate remembrance of Sarah Jane and Rose’s first meeting, and how it cut him deeply that they didn’t immediately get along. “Can’t bear fighting.”

Donna huffed. As if. “You wish,” she chided him. She held out her hand to shake Martha’s. There was a warm and exceedingly friendly smile on her face. “I’ve heard all about you,” she said by way of greeting. “He talks about you all the time.”

“I dread to think,” Martha said, trying hard for joviality, but only managing to project worry about just what had been said. She could see the Doctor’s expression and look of warning toward Donna, and knew that her concern was warranted. She managed to stop herself reddening in embarrassment.

“No. no, no,” Donna stammered, her eyes shifting between the Doctor’s expression of worry and Martha’s quietly worried expression. “No, no, no. He says nice things. Good things. Nice things.” She watched the Doctor nod. “Really good things.”

Martha’s face did redden. “Oh God, he’s told you everything.” She then looked up to him with a slight tilt in her eye. “Or not enough.” She turned back to Donna. “Tell me, did he only mention to you my passing fancy toward him, or did he actually remember to include my affections for Tom in his retelling of our time together?”

Donna took interest in that and looked toward the Doctor with a smile gracing her lips. “Tom, Doctor?” she was highly amused. “I don’t believe you mentioned him to me at all.”

“I did,” he said with his eyes to the sky. “Pretty sure I remember mentioning the Cerulean to you.” He looked at her. “You remember that, don’t you? In Pompeii? Random Time Lord. My telling him to keep hands off because…”

Martha interrupted him with a sharp laugh. “Oh my God. He did that to you as well?” Her laugh was infectious enough that Donna joined in. “That’s brilliant, that is. The cheek of it. This one’s all unavailable and uninterested, but heavens forbid anyone else pays any attention in _you_. Then it’s _all hands off my companions by order of the Time Lord Doctor_.”

He was most definitely put off and offended by that rather poor impersonation of him and let it known with a closed-mouth curl in his lip and dark petulant expression. “I hardly think…”

Donna threw her head back with a laugh. “That is so spot on accurate to how it happened in Pompeii.” She shrugged her shoulder and lifted her eyes upward. “Of course, in that case, it was his son … well … not that he knew it of course.”

Martha seemed surprised by that. “Mark?” she held her hand at hip level. “But he’s only a little guy.”

“Time traveller,’ the Doctor interrupted with a huff. “He was a future incarnation of my son. Was wearing a bio-dampener, and so I didn’t recognise him. When he got all handsy and hugged her – after I told him not to, of course – I _might_ have issued warning.”

Donna twisted and dipped her shoulder to talk along it toward Martha. “There was no _might_ about it. Got right mad, he did.”

“Been there,” Martha sighed. She lifted her hand to push her hair from her face ready to speak to the Doctor and let him know just why it was that she’d called him here, but had her attention toward him yanked away when Donna snatched her hand.

“Oh wow,” she purred appreciatively as she analysed a large glimmering rock on Martha’s finger. She showed it to the Doctor. “Can’t have fancied you too much, Doctor.” She looked back to her. “Engaged?”

Martha looked down at the ring and smiled. “Well. Yes and no.” She looked to the Doctor. “Married in the way of his people, but still just engaged in the ways of _my_ people.” 

“Hold on,” Donna barked. “You’re married to, or marrying one of _his_ kind?” She turned to look at the Doctor with confusion on her face. “But I thought you said you were the only one?”

“It’s complicated,” the Doctor managed with a twirl of his hand in the air and a contorted expression of _I-really-don’t-want-to-explain-this-to-you_ on his face. “Time Travellers. Time Lords. Existing across all timelines, and yet not existing at all. We’re a complicated people.”

“Or you’re just making it complicated,” Donna muttered with a look toward Martha as she let her hand drop. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” she sang out with a smile. She looked to the Doctor. “What about Rose? Have you found her yet?”

He slowly shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Jack and I,” she started with a smile. “We’re still looking ourselves.”

“Jackie?” he asked hopefully. “Did you try her?”

She nodded, but shook her head. “Jackie still thinks she’s on Gallifrey with younger you,” she answered. “Apparently you picked her up and took her to watch your daughter be born a couple of weeks ago.” She shrugged. “If Rose is in this timeline, then she’s so far out of synch with her mum that she can’t even reach out to her yet. But Jack is maintaining contact with her, so when we know anything, so will you.”

The Doctor’s face lengthened with heartache. “A daughter,” he breathed out sadly. “We have a daughter.”

Martha lifted her hand to touch his arm. “We’ll find them, Doctor,” she assured him. “I promise you, yeah?”

“Thank you,’ he breathed softly.

Donna’s face fell into an expression of utter confusion. She didn’t understand anything of what was going on here. She thought of several questions, none of which would actually answer the actual questions burning inside her mind. Her mouth gaped and flapped. She didn’t even know where to start.

The radio at her hip buzzed loudly and Martha dropped her chin as she unclipped it from her belt. She drew it to her mouth, holding it sideways as eh spoke. “This is Doctor Jones. Operation Blue Sky is go, go, go. I repeat this is a go.”

Within a moment the scene exploded with jeeps, trucks, and a squad of soldiers. There was loud chatter and orders being thrown about, and it made both Donna and the Doctor take a staggered step backward.

The Doctor held his hand backward, his intent to keep Donna safely behind him. “Martha? Care to explain?”

She held up a finger to him and turned to a soldier, who had wandered into the alleyway. Her finger of _shut-up_ moved to him and she lifted the radio to his mouth. “Greyhound Six to Tap One. B Section. Go, go go. Search the ground floor. Grid Pattern Delta.”

The Doctor stepped up to her side, his brow lifted at the movement of a large platoon of soldiers across the alley. “What are you searching for?”

“Illegal aliens,” she answered without looking at him as she walked down toward the soldiers.

The Doctor remained in place, his expression one of discomfort and surprise. His expression shifted toward something unreadable when Donna stepped up at his side.

“Is that what you did to her?” she asked him curiously. “Turned her into a soldier?”

~~oooOOOoooo~~

Things had been getting a little bit out of Donna’s comfort zone over the few hours. She’d seen far more than she’d wanted to see, and learned far too much. She worried about her mother, about her grandfather, about Rose and her kids living all alone next door to her.

This was well out of her depth and she knew it. The Doctor and his former companion, Martha, seemed to have everything very well in hand.

Her decision to step away from this particular adventure was made, and she walked into a garage of military vehicles and approached her alien friend as he prepared to go into battle or whatever.

“Doctor?” she said gently as she approached.

He gave her a beaming grin, obviously very happy to see her. “Oh! Just in time,’ he cheered. “Come on, come on. We’re going to the country. Fresh air and geniuses, what more can you ask?”

Well, not to be the only non genius, that’s for sure. She swept her hair from her face and gave him a soft smile. “I’m not coming with you.” Her smile fell and she spoke almost hesitantly. “I’ve been thinking. I’m sorry. I’m going home.”

His enthusiasm fell abruptly. He looked disappointed. “Really?”

She shugged, hoping that he’d understand her need to check in on her family. “I’ve got to.”

“Oh,” he breathed out in a strangled tone. “If that’s what you want.” He might not have actually shuffled his feet in the floor, but Donna certainly felt that he did. “I mean. It’s a bit soon.” He inhaled deeply. “I had so many places I had wanted to take you: The Fifteenth Broken Moon of the Medusa Cascare, the Lightning Skies of Cotter Palluni’s World, Diamond Corel Reefs of Kataa Flo Ko.” He then shifted to an expression of genuine affection. “Thank you. Thank you, Donna Noble. It’s been brilliant.” His voice became breathy. “You’ve. You’ve saved my life in so many ways. You’re…” He paused at the somewhat amused expression on her face. “Oh. You’re just popping home for a visit. That’s what you mean?”

There was hope in his voice at that. She smiled and shook her head. “You Dumbo.”

Well, shit. Everyone left him in the end. What else was he supposed to think. “And then you’re coming back?”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You know what you are? A great big outerspace dunce.”

Relief flooded him and he couldn’t help but smile with agreement. “Yeah.”

Both of them looked toward a soldier as he approached them. Stopping short to attention, sans a salute. “Ready when you are, Sir.”

Donna grabbed his arm. “What’s more. You can give me a lift. Come on.” She tugged him toward the vehicle. “Broken moon of what?” 

“I know. I know.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Rose wandered through her terribly quiet home. She kicked at the floor, and balled her fists in the pockets of her jeans as she headed toward the kitchen. Her son was at school, and her daughter was playing in a daycare centre a few blocks away.

She didn’t understand the push for her sweet baby girl to attend daycare – particularly as she was a stay at home mother – but it had been at the insistence of both Brax and Romana that young Alirra spend at least a few days a week amongst youngsters her own age. The two of them had carefully vetted the venue and arranged a years worth of advanced payments, giving her very little option to tell them both to sod off and let her watch her child.

Braxiatel had said it would be good for the both of them. Rose could engage herself in activities that she would be otherwise unable to partake in, and Alirra would get some social development training. Maybe being around other young children would pull her out of her shell. Not that Rose could really disagree with that. Alirra was almost two and a half years old now, and hadn’t uttered a single word in the eighteen months they’d been on Earth – since she’d lost her father. None of them knew how long it would be until they would see him again – or they ever would see him again. They had to find some way for her to pull out of her misery and learn to laugh again.

So. With Mark at school and Alirra at daycare, Rose was absolutely and utterly lost. For the first time since losing the Doctor all those months ago, she started to feel well and truly alone. At least having her daughter on her hip for almost the entire day, she could forget about the hold in her heart left by the Doctor. Now, it was all rushing toward her with all the power of a freight train, and she didn’t know if she had the strength to handle it.

…She desperately needed something to take her mind from it. Something. Anything!

A whimper from underneath the kitchen table gave her the tiniest hope that there may be something. She put her hand on the tabletop and lowered into a crouch. She dipped her head to look between the legs of the chairs and saw the blue-white fur of her male Dahrama. 

The poor thing looked absolutely emotionally destroyed and whimpered pathetically at her.

“Soliarn,” she cooed gently. “What’s got you all in a rut, then?”

He humphed at her through his lips and nose at the same time.

“Are you not well?” she asked as she lowered herself to her knees and made to crawl down there with him. The simpler option would have been to pull out the chairs, of course, but as it certainly appeared to her that he was in hiding, she opted to do it the hard way. “Come here, my big buddy. Let me take a look at you.”

He practically shook his giant head at her as he scuffled even further backward. She truend her head at the tikka tikka of claws on her marble floor and peered back to notice Tiallu padding into the kitchen. The female wolf was definitely in search of something. Her nose lifted and then fell to the floor, her head swinging side to side. Rose leaned out from her place under the table and held out her hand to the cub-swollen belly of the wolf to give it a rub. 

“Tiallu? Everything okay?”

She huffed in much the same manner that Soliarn had done, and the male in question whimpered and moved even further back. Rose flicked her eyes between the pair of them and found herself chuckling just a little. “Oh,” she breathed out with amusement. “I get it.” She leaned down and looked back to Soliarn. “Oh, you need to man it up, buddy.” She pointed to Tiallu’s belly. “She didn’t get that way by herself you know.”

At her chatting underneath the table, Tiallu determined that her mate was in hiding underneath the table. She rushed in with hot snarls and yapping of such ferocity that it had Rose scuffle back herself.

“Tiallu!” Rose yelled at her wolf. “What are you doing?”

Tiallu was on her haunches underneath the table, growling and yapping at her mate as though admonishing him for some incredible misdeed of biblical proportions. Soliarn wore a wince at her verbal attack, tilting to one side in the most submissive manner she’d ever seen of an animal. He didn’t even huff a reply, just took her snarling and yapping with more cowering.

Oh, Rose wasn’t going to have any of this nonsense going on in her home. She crawled backward to get out from underneath the table. “Tiallu! That’s just enough from you, young lady,” she snapped. She grabbed at the thick collar around her neck and tugged with everything she had to pull her free of the table. With Tiallu’s weight and strength, it took quite an amount of effort. “Oh my God, you’re heavy,” she growled out.

The front door opened, and Rose could hear Donna announcing her presence in the foyer.

“In the Kitchen,” she called out with strain in her voice as she fought against the strength of her wolf. “Just come through.”

“What the hell is going on in here?” Donna called over the snarls and growling and furniture scraping across the floor as Rose struggled against a wolf who struggled against her to get to her mate.

“Marital struggle,” Rose grit out through her teeth. “Tiallu’s pregnant, and hormonal, and I think Soliarn might have breathed wrong or something, because she wants a piece of him.” She grunted as she briefly lost her footing and stumbled forward. “Donna. Some help please?”

Donna reached forward and clutched hold of the leather collar, her hand beside Rose’s. “She’s not going to bite me if I help, is she?”

“No,” she replied through her teeth as the pair of them finally got some form of control over the beast. “She wants to take it out on him, so you and me … we’re safe.”

“I hope so,” Donna said with a wince in one eye as she helped Rose tug the wolf free of the table. “Because I’ve got things to do later, you know. Need all my limbs for it.”

Tiallu gave up the fight and with a last snap toward her mate let the ladies pull her out. Donna stepped off, but Rose grabbed the wolf’s nose. She looked her dead in the eyes. “Bad girl!” she hollered at her. “Don’t you start getting all mad and blaming him for that squirmy thing in your belly. It was a decision made by the both of you.”

“Well,” Donna countered. “Not really. She just went into heat. He was the one that got all frisky with her.”

Rose stood up and took Tiallu by the collar to the door. She slid it open and forced her wolf outside. “You can just stay out there, young lady, till you get a handle on yourself and can treat him right. He loves you and is only trying to do right by ya…” She paused and shuddered as she slowly slid the door closed. “Oh, God. I just realised I sounded like my mother in the delivery room with me and Thete.”

Donna lifted a finger. “Ahhh. But a labouring woman is allowed to lose it on the man that put that kid in her.”

Rose looked to Donna with wide eyes. “I know, right?” She then laughed and shook her head. She looked down at the table and pointed toward the male. “Now you. You’d better figure out just what marvel of brilliance is going to make her like you again. Because trust me, buddy. If you think she’s bad now, you wait till she’s gotto push that thing out of her.”

“Things,” Donna corrected. “They don’t just have one of them.”

Rose stretched and walked into the kitchen. “Nah. These wolves, they only have one at a time. No multiples. She’s only got one in her.” She shifted her hand between the kettle and the bottle of wine sitting on the counter. “Wine, or tea?”

“Got anything stronger?”

“Vodka,” Rose said with a laugh. “Orange juice okay?”

Donna nodded. “Make mine a double.”

Rose was intrigued. She walked around the kitchen with practiced ease to prepare two drinks. “Hard day, Don?”

She huffed and slouched after taking a seat at the table. “Ever felt like you were the dumbest person in a room?”

Rose chuckled. “You’ve met Brax and Romana, yeah?” She placed two glasses with ice on the counter and uncorked a bottle of Grey Goose. She tipped the neck of it at her. “And you’re not dumb at all. Where were you that made you feel that way.”

Donna watched the pour and, when Rose lifted it to stop the pour, indicated she wanted at least another finger. Rose did as asked. “Ugh. Ended up at a military facility filled with scientists and the such. I can handle the Doctor and his _smartest in the room_ babble, you know, when he’s by himself. I mean, it’s bad enough, but get a whole whack of them?”

“I know the feeling,” Rose commiserated as she poured the Orange Juice. She pushed a glass over with her fingertip. “How’d you end up at a military base? Just what kind’ve travelling are you doing with this guy to end up there?”

Donna drew back a long swig and let out a purr of appreciation. She straightened herself up before she answered. “His friend Martha called for help, and so we stopped by.”

That name made her smile. Rose really liked Martha. She wondered how she was doing now, and if there might be some way in the near future that they may meet up again for a chat. 

“Anyway,” Donna continued. “Martha’s a sweet girl. Very clever. Married herself off pretty quickly after leaving the Doctor, actually.”

Awwwwww. Rose’s face lengthened with happiness. “Really? To whom?”

Donna chuckled. “Oh, you say that like you actually know the girl.” She drew back at her drink once more. “Married to a fellow named Tom, I believe. Someone the Doctor doesn’t approve of, it seems.” She snickered. “Jealous creature he is.”

Rose wanted to squeal with happiness. She bit at her lip to hide her glee and hid it behind her glass. “The type that needs to be the most important man in a girl’s life.” Rose ventured, knowing beyond all doubt it was true. “And will get all bent out of shape when he isn’t?”

Donna let out a laugh. “Yeah. Got it in one, Blondie.” She looked toward the wall, in the direction of her house. “So Mum and Grandpa, know where they are?”

“Grocery shopping, I believe,” she answered with a shrug. “Wilf asked if I needed anything. I told him no, but I expect he’ll rock up with a bag full of sweets for the kids.”

“And snaffle a few of the better pieces for your self, I would hope.”

“You know it,” she said with a smirk. “Bit addicted to Twirls and Dolly Mix, me, and he loads up on those ones.”

Donna leaned in. “Because he knows they’re your favourite,” she whispered. “He’s not a Dumbo, my Grandad. He knows how to read a person.”

“Doesn’t he just?”

A howl and whine started to weep out of the hallway wall just off the kitchen. Rose’s eyes widened in panic. By now Donna would know beyond all doubt what that sound was. She looked to her best friend with a look of horror. Donna’s eyes were locked on the hallway.

“Why is he coming here?” she asked underneath her breath. She stood up and walked to the doorway.

“Donna,” Rose called out. “Wait a minute.”

Donna turned to Rose with apology as the sound increased, followed by a gusting breeze. “Rose, I’m sorry. He shouldn’t be coming here…” She turned back to the hall. “And please don’t freak out when you find out what he is.” 

Rose walked up beside Donna and shook her head. “I’m going to ask you the same thing.” Against the wall, a grey cylinder was ebbing in and out of existence with a slower than normal pulse.

“That’s not the Doctor,” Donna breathed out worriedly. “the TARDIS doesn’t look like that.”

“No it doesn’t,” Rose agreed. Her voice was in a low worried tone. The sound of the engines were all wrong. This capsule was struggling to materialise. Something was wrong.

“Rose?” Donna asked with a pinch in her eye. “You’ve heard of the TARDIS?”

She held her hand and petted it in the air. “Gimme a sec. Something’s wrong.” She tried to touch at the capsule but snapped her hands away at a jolt from its forcefield. She held at her hand and looked up at capsule. “Brax! Brax! Everything okay?”

Donna looked at the pulsing shape. She looked at Rose, who was completely unsurprised at it materialising in her home. Well, not surprised at all. She was expecting this arrival.

“Rose?” she pushed harder. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” she answered with worry. “It’s struggling to materialise.”

“I can see that,” she snapped back. “I mean what’s going on, as in…” she gestured with two hands at the capsule. “Why do you have a TARDIS trying to land in your hallway?”

“It’s not a TARDIS,” she answered softly, her eyes still on the capsule as it began to finally huff and wheeze into existence. “Only the Doctor calls it a TARDIS. This is a Type 76 Travel capsule”

“Wait,” she huffed out. “You. You _know_ the Doctor?” She grabbed at her arm. “Rose, answer me.”

The capsule finally materialised into existence with a rush of acrid white smoke and a clanging grind of metal on metal. It was a thud across reality that announced full materialisation. Rose pulled from Donna’s grasp.

“I’ll answer every question you have later, Donna. But right now…” She pounded on the door. “Brax! Brax, open up. It’s me, Rose.”

Donna remained in place, practically slumped. She looked at her friend, her apparently _best_ friend, who had listened to her spin tales about the Doctor for months upon months, never once letting on that she knew who he was.

The door to the capsule hissed open and belched out a thick cloud of black, grey, and white smoke. The thickness of it, and the stench that followed had both women cover their mouths with their sleeves. They both coughed against the choking stench of fried electronic circuitry, and plastics.

Rose called out to her brother in law, her voice now panicked beyond all reason. When he finally appeared in the doorway of the capsule, he did so with a low moan and a stagger. He fell against the wall of the capsule and slid with a heavy thump to the floor. He was utterly torn and beaten to what looked to be within an inch of his life. His face wore cuts, blisters and scrapes. His clothing was burned and torn to shreds that barely offered him any dignity at all. Any bit of skin that was exposed was covered in blood and bruising, and she could see parts of his stomach that belonged inside, rather than protruding outward like they were.

“Brax,” she whimpered out as she fell to her knees at his side. “Oh my God, what happened to you?”

He writhed in place. “We got ambushed,’ he managed out through gritted teeth. “The whole convoy, outside of …” He coughed up a mouthful of orange, crimson blood. “Three capsules,” he moaned. “My entire guard.”

“Got you good, too,” she said forlornly. These were some serious injuries. There was no way to survive them. “God, Brax.” She shuddered as she touched at his chest. “And Romana?”

“Safe,’ he breathed out. “Thank Rassilon. And for once, that’s not in vain,” he said with a gurgling laugh. “She was sent across to the other end of Mutter’s Spiral. To Shesoth – No fighting up there.”

Donna dropped at the other side of Braxiatel. She knew that the image she was looking at should have made her turn her head and vomit uncontrollably, but she knew she couldn’t do that. No. She was needed right now.

“I’m going to call 9-9-9,” she said to him as she pulled out her phone.

“You can’t,” he spluttered.

“He’s right, Donna,” Rose said sadly. “He. I guess you’ve worked it out. He’s not Human.” She panted. “One drop of Time Lord Blood, and those scientists could change the whole course of humanity.”

“Time Lord,” Donna repeated. She twisted her neck, shoving down her growing litany of questions and yells that she was going to lever toward Rose when all this was over. “Then let me call the Doctor.”

Brax shook his head. He moaned through his teeth and shook his head. “Told you … Doctor …. can’t help.” He looked to Rose. “I … I have to … regenerate.”

“She doesn’t mean any doctor,” Rose said with apology more toward Donna than to Braxiatel. “She … Donna … She means Thete.”

“No,” Brax managed out. “She can’t…” he looked at Donna. “Please … you … can’t.”

“He can help you, Brax,” Rose pleaded tearfully. “Please. God, please let her call him for you.”

He lifted a hand to her cheek to cup it as best he could. There was apology in his gaze. “Thete’s timelines … they aren’t yet stable, Rose. It’s still not safe for the two of you. We’re … still at war.” He panted. “And we … still need you. Now more … than ever.”

Rose nodded sadly and wiped at her tears with a bloody sleeve that did little more than smear blood across her face. “I understand.” She sniffed. “But he won’t. You know that. When it all comes out.”

“I … I’ll deal .. with him,” he assured her through a bloody grimace. 

Donna shot her a look, a hard look of question that shifted toward realisation. “Rose? You. You’re _his_ Rose, aren’t you? The _Doctor’s_ Rose?”

She closed her eyes and nodded.

Donna then looked toward Brax. “Which makes you?” she didn’t want to know the answer, especially seeing the man this close to death and knowing there was nothing at all she could do to help him.

“He’s his brother,” Rose confirmed. “Brax is the Doctor’s brother.”


	65. Regeneration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brax Regenerates ... Donna is horrifed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this was in no way an easy one to write. Didn't go anywhere near where I wanted it to go, and took too bloody long for something supposedly so simple ... but it did finally end.
> 
> These are always the tougher chapters to write, as everyone does have their own ideas about how it should go. I hope that this one traveled close to your expectations.
> 
> I sinceriously hope that you enjoy!

~~oooOOOooo~~

All colour drained from Donna’s face with those words. Not only was Donna looking at the woman that the Doctor was so desperately searching for, but his brother was here too. His _brother_! A brother, Donna reminded herself, that the Doctor believed was dead; killed in the Time War along with all of the other Time Lords.

Come to think of it, the Doctor never mentioned having a brother. But then again, he never mentioned parents, either, yet it was obvious that he had them. Can’t exist without either.

She stood quickly, and her eyes flicked up to a large framed photograph that hung on the wall beside her. It was obviously a professional shot, such was the beauty of it. It showed a happy family of six, Rose, Thete, the two children, and their pet dogs set amongst the backdrop of snow capped red-rocked mountains and a forest so brilliant against the sun that it looked as though it was on fire. Her eyes shifted to the gorgeous and obviously besotted man holding an infant along his arm. His face and eyes were lifted to the precocious young boy that had positioned himself in between his parents, up on his feet and leaning forward with a big goofy grin stretched across his face.

The body language was unmistakable. This man was a father. He was a father who quite clearly not only loved his children, but adored his wife as well. No doubt about that. One thing he clearly wasn’t, though, was the Doctor. He also bore no immediately recognisable physical resemblance toward his boy, which left Donna with the very plausible conclusion that while the Doctor may have spent how ever many years searching for his wife and son, Rose had given up, moved on and married another. And a doctor of all things – a real doctor, but one with a little d.

She got it now. Irving wasn’t the Doctor’s brother any more than Rose was still the Time Lord’s wife. Their confusion toward who she was suggesting she’d call was understandable. Irving was knocking at death’s painful door, and Rose was panicked that she was about to lose the man who had stepped up to become her rock. Both of them were just two very confused people right now.

But hold on. This man arrived in a TARDIS – and despite what either of those two might call it, she was going to stick with TARDIS – which meant he was one of the Doctor’s people. This also meant that they’d know exactly who she meant when she called her Time Lord the Doctor. Rose would certainly have spoken of him to her new husband – he was Mark’s father after all. So why act like that beautiful man with the chestnut curls, plump and kissable lower lip, and stormy blue eyes was the skinny little hedgehog-haired over excitable, brown-eyed beanpole that would give a paper cut if she hugged him?

Okay. Make that three people who were extremely confused right now.

A long and pained moan from the dying man shook Donna from her thoughts. She fell once more to her knees at his side. “Are you sure we can’t call someone?”

Despite his predicament, Braxiatel was insistent and almost fierce in his vehemence that she call anyone. “you can’t,” he managed weakly. “Thete … he can’t know. Promise me.”

‘Now’s not the time,” Rose said gently, but with a waver in her voice. 

“It takes one … second,” he said brokenly. “One second to destroy … everything.” He cupped her cheek in his hand. “We can’t … not now.”

Rose lifted her eyes to Donna’s. “Please, Donna. Before you think you need to call the Doctor. Please let us explain.” She looked down to Braxiatel. “And give ‘im time to do what he needs to do right now.”

“You mean to die,” Donna shot back with a little more hostility than was necessary.

“No,” Rose answered her. She inhaled deeply and swallowed thickly. “Time Lords don’t die.”

“What do you mean they don’t die?” she barked out incredulously.

“They regenerate,” Rose answered almost inaudibly.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean.” She didn’t mean to sound aggressive or angry, but Donna couldn’t help it. She was terrified and horribly confused, so aggression became her automatic emotional response. “You’re makin’ fun while you’ve got a man dying in your hallway?”

“Just…” Rose let out a breath and moved closer to Braxiatel. She hooked his arm over her neck and looked up to Donna. “Can you please help me?” she asked with an emotionally damaged voice. “I’m not strong enough to carry him by myself.”

“This has to be illegal,” Donna gruffed as she moved into Braxiatel’s other side. She pulled his arm over her shoulder. “You’re making me commit a crime, Rose. I’m not a criminal, you know.”

“It’s not a crime.”

“Not calling for an ambulance when you have a bloke dying on your floor is very much a crime, Blondie,” she argued. “I bloody hope you’re not taking him to the kitchen to cut up his body and throw it in the trash or something like that.”

Brax actually found himself chuckling at the image of Rose with her carving knife doing just that. The chuckle turned to a wince of pain. He let out a moan. “Rassilon … this hurts.”

“I know,” Rose said softly. “And I’m sorry, I don’t know how to help you with that.”

“It’ll be over … soon enough,” he moaned out.

“Yeah, because you’ll be dead,” Donna said with a snarl. “And I’ll be an accomplice to murder, or to negligent homicide or something.”

Rose ignored the snap. She looked down into Braxiatel’s frightened eyes. “In the capsule?”

He shook his head, writhing in pain. “Can’t … not mine.” He panted through gritted teeth. “It’s not … safe for you. Damaged. Too damaged. Poisonous air, Huon. Artron. Deadly … to Humans.” He flicked his eyes to a door against the wall. “In there … It’ll contain the blast wave.”

Donna followed his eyes. “In a cupboard? Oh Hell no!”

“No … choice…” He shifted forward. “Help me.”

Rose’s grip on him tightened as she prepared to lift him and bear his weight. She looked with desperation toward her friend. “Please Donna. Trust me.”

“Not a real good time for you to ask that of me, Rose,” she snapped. “Turns out everything I knew about you…”

“Not the time,” Rose warned her gently. She inhaled a breath and tugged at Braxiatel to lift him to his feet. She couldn’t fight against the sob in the back of her throat when he cried out in agony. “Brax. I’m so sorry.”

Donna quickly fell in to take some of the weight off Rose’s shoulder. She winced at the heavy weight, of the smell of blood, and of her now ruined clothing. There was no way at all she’d be able to get this stuff out. Her legs felt as though they might collapse underneath her, and her feet slipped in the puddle of orange-crimson blood that had pooled underneath him. “Rose? Where are we taking him?”

She gestured as best she could to the cupboard against the wall with her chin. “In there. Like he said, we need to contain the regeneration energy.”

Her lip curled. “Great. How many other dead bodies am I going to find in there,” she growled in reply. “Great luck in friends, me. An alien and a serial killer.”

Braxiatel actually snorted in amusement. “Describes my … my brother’s luck in friends to a tee.” He slipped in his own blood and moaned. “You two make a … good pair.”

“Almost there,” Rose assured him as she pulled open the cupboard door with one hand and kicked open the other. “Just in here, okay?”

Donna almost stilled when the interior of the cupboard was revealed to her. For more than a year, Donna had walked past this door without a second thought to what lay beyond it. She always believed it to be a linen closet or something else as benign. Well, of course that’s what she’d believe it was, wasn’t it? She certainly didn’t expect that beyond those slatted wooden doors lay vast, empty expanse of white that seemed to stretch on without end. 

It was like the Doctor’s TARDIS, only sterile and empty except for a grey mushroom console that stood alone about twenty feet from the door. Small LED lights flickered and flashed in a variety of greens, yellow, and reds, and a pleasant hum welcomed them all.

“You have a TARDIS?” she asked almost nervously as she walked slowly, lumbering with the weight of him. “You? Rose. Are you a Time Lord, too?”

Rose spoke through her teeth as she helped walk Braxiatel toward the console. “No,” she grit out. “I’m Human.” She lowered to her knees, helping Braxietel to the floor. “Not a Time Lord or Lady.”

“You should be,” Braxiatel grit out. His eyes were closed at he breathed through his pain, but they opened to look at her with affection. “Thete and I – we don’t see you any … other way.”

Rose let him fall from her shoulder and moved in to cup his face with both hands. She lowered him to the ground. “Liar,” she teased softly with a smile. “Just a stupid ape to you lot.”

He looked up into her eyes. “I … I’ve never … said that of you.” He lifted a hand and hooked it around the back of her neck and pulled her forehead down to his. He winced initially with his own pain and then opened his eyes to look into hers with fear. “I’m scared, Rose.”

“Don’t be,” she assured him with a breathy voice. She stroked his cheeks with her thumbs. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.” She inhaled a shaking breath. “I’ll get you through this.”

“You’re … You’re in my hearts,” he vowed with remarkable fierceness. “But you … know that I have to do this … alone.” He writhed and fell off to the side. “I don’t want to … hurt you.”

“I can take it,” she whimpered almost pathetically. 

He lifted his hand as it began to shimmer orange. He looked to her with fear in his eyes. “What if Romana … doesn’t like the new .. me?”

“She will, Brax,” she assured him. ‘I promise you. Just like you still loved her when she regenerated after the Phandroith incident.”

“She came back … beautiful…” he grit out. “How couldn’t … I?” His hand flared and he shook it as he shuffled backward. “It’s beginning. Stay back.”

“You’re in my heart. Remember that,” she called out to him as she ran backward toward where Donna was waiting in silence. She collided with her and mumbled an apology.

“What’s going on?” Donna blurted worriedly. ‘Why’re you just leaving him there like that?”

Rose turned toward her. There were tears streaming down her cheeks, but she tried hard to keep her voice from breaking. “When Time Lords get hurt,” she began. She pressed her hands to Donna’s shoulder to lead them both backward toward the doorway. “When they’re hurt enough that they’re going to die.” She looked back to Braxiatel, who was using the console to pull himself to his feet. “Their bodies. They repair themselves. It changes. They change…”

Donna looked sharply toward Braxiatel. Her voice was pitched high and still several octaves higher than calm. “What do you mean, they change?”

“It’s a way of cheating death,” she answered quietly, remembering the words of her fist Doctor before he burst into flames in front of her. “Every part of ‘im changes.” Her eyes flashed wide and she moved to stand in between Braxiatel and Donna. “Look at me,” she demanded in order. “Don’t look at him. You don’t want to watch.”

“And of course, now that you’ve said that,” she snapped. “All I wanna do is watch.” Her eyes widened as Braxiatel’s hands and neck started to glow. “What the Hell?”

Rose twisted to look over her shoulder at him. “Good luck,” she called out to him. “I’ll be right here when it’s over.”

His face began to glow and he shot a terrified look toward her. “This is going to hurt,” he whimpered. “Remember me, Rose. This me. Remember _this_ me, please.”

“How could I ever possibly forget you.”

His arms snapped hard outward and his head flung back as bright yellow flames shot from his hands and throat. Donna screamed and hid behind Rose’s shoulder. She dipped in the knees, throwing her arms around her friend, and dropped her face into Rose’s shoulder. “What’s happening? What is that?”

“It won’t be long now,” Rose said calmly. “It’s okay, Donna. He’s okay.”

“He’s screaming,” she argued. “There is _nothing_ okay about him.”

The sizzle in the air, Braxiatel’s cries, and the deepening hum of the capsule trying to contain the blast and protect the two humans from exposure seemed to last an eternity. Donna sobbed in fear, and Rose sobbed with the heartache that only the loss of a brother could bring.

There was a final wave of heat over the two frightened woman, and then a ethereal slurping sucking sound washed over them. The heat and light pulled back toward the regenerating Time Lord as though his mouth had become a vacuum. There was silence, and both Donna and Rose lifted out of their shielded postures to gaze upon the man.

What stood in place of Braxiatel was a confused and exhausted looking man swaying in place, staggering and stumbling against the console. He looked to his Sister in Law with an expression of worry. “Rose?”

She broke from her protective hold of Donna and fled toward him. She reached him as he finally lost his balance and fell to his knees. His eyes, now brown rather than blue, gazed upon her with worry. “How? How do I look?”

“Typical,” she answered with a smile to try and hide her upset. She stroked her hands down his face and made a show of looking him over. “Win the war against death, and the first thing you want to know is if you’re still handsome.”

“Am I?” he asked with a smile.

She slapped his shoulder and made a sound of annoyance. “Ugh. You’re just like him,” she snarled playfully. “You’re both all: So, how’d I look? What do you think?” She then growled an upset but relieved sound and pulled him in for a hug. “You look amazing,” she promised him. “Romana will love the new you.”

“What the hell?” Donna barked out from the doorway. She had tried for the hottest kind of anger she was capable of, but she only managed to sound completely terrified and confused. “Who is that?” She looked around. “Where’s Irving?”

Both Rose and Brax rose to a timid stand. Braxiatel, despite his skin being renewed refreshed and pink with the calming energies of regeneration, was still dressed in the bloody clothing of his predecessor. The outfit was tighter than was comfortable, but fortunately the tears in his shirt and trousers offered him enough room to be able to move and – most importantly – to breathe. He took a step forward. “Donna,” he said carefully, approaching her as one would a frightened animal. “It’s me. Irving.”

Her eyes were wide, and she pressed her back up against the door of this unfamiliar TARDIS. Her head shook. “No. No you’re not,” she corrected him. “Irving is all dark hair, blue eyes, full of slick and gel, clean shaven, but with a porno ‘stache that’d make Ron Jeremy jealous.”

He had to smile at that. “Nice to know you took notice…” he looked to Rose with question in his eyes. “Ron Jeremy?”

“You’re not him,” she carried on with complete ignorance to his slight preening. “You’re not Irving. You’re all dirty blonde, five o’clock shadow, bedroom eyes kind of deal.”

His face broke out into a smile. “Oh? Really?” He looked back to Rose with a glint in his eyes. “A sultry incarnation this time around?”

Rose actually smiled as she slapped her hand to her forehead. She walked by him, giving her head a shake as she strode past and pointing a finger at him. “Only one vain flirt in the family at a time, thanks.”

“Hey,” he called out with mirth. He gave her a playful wink. “If it works for Thete, then why not…?”

“It didn’t,” Rose reminded him as she walked toward Donna. “I walked out because of that, remember.”

“True,” he agreed with a nod.

Rose walked up to Donna and wasn’t surprised when she seemed to hide in her shadow, peering over her shoulder toward the newly minted Irving Braxiatel. “Rose,” she hissed out. “Who is that?” She looked to her friend. “Where is Irving?”

Rose gestured toward him, noting the way he admired his hands with a smile. She looked back to Donna. “That’s him,” she confirmed. “Irving.”

“That’s a completely different person,” she said with a grunt, turning Rose’s focus with a hand on top of her head twisting it in this man’s direction. “That’s not Irving.”

“Regeneration,” he stated calmly. His accent, now a more posh-50’s-almost-English-American than the British drawl he had previously, curled around the word with respect. “The last resort of an injured Time Lord.” He looked to Donna and dipped his head to one side. “I recall Rose explaining that to you already. Before I was engulfed in Lindos and changed into a new man.”

“And you think I was really listenin’?” she barked in reply. “I just found out you were a Time Lord, that Rose has a TARDIS, that you were dying, and that you’re the Doctor’s brother. That my best friend has lied to me for a year, pretending she doesn’t know who the Doctor is, that she’s his wife and mother of his kid.” She looked indignant. “That’s a bit of an overload of information, don’t you think? Sorry if I missed that little piece of information and amongst all the rest.”

He scratched his finger around the shell of his ear. “Well, it’s a pretty vital piece of information given the circumstance.” His eyes lit up and he gave her a smile, one that stretched to almost Joker-like proportions. “But, hey! You’re not a criminal, now. That must make you feel much better.” He looked in Rose’s direction. “Am I right? That was a concern, yes? Worried about you chopping me up into pieces and throwing me into the rubbish?”

“Still an option,” she answered with a shrug, then rolled her eyes. “But you’d just regenerate again.”

“Still got nine left, you know.”

“Good to know.”

Donna’s hands found her hips. “Well I’m glad the two of you are taking this with a laugh,” she snapped. 

Braxiatel approached her, not too surprised when she shirked back from him. He held up his hands to indicate that he meant her no harm. “I’m truly sorry you had to witness that,” he admitted gently. “I can only imagine how terrifying it must’ve been for you to see…” He let out a long breath and slumped, his eyes rolling up to the ceiling. “Well, all of it, really.”

Rose took position next to her brother in law and thread her arm across his back. He laid her head on his shoulder, smiling when his arm moved across her shoulder. “You have to admit that life with the Doctor is, well, is full of surprises.” She rolled her head to look at Braxiatel’s new profile. “This. Regeneration. It’s just another one of those surprises.”

“A surprise is something nice,” Donna corrected with a sneer. “Something that’s usually fun and pleasant.” She pointed toward the console. “ _That_ was terrifying.”

“I’m very sorry,” he said with genuine honesty. “when I realised regeneration was inevitable, and that the only safe place I could do it was under Rose’s watchful eyes…” he let out a breath. “I didn’t expect that you’d be here.”

“So…” she gulped. “So you’re really him, then? Irving?” She looked at Rose. “You’re not having me on or anything?”

Rose’s brows pinched at the suggestion. “It’s a bit of an elaborate show to put on just to get a laugh.”

She looked at Braxiatel. “And the Doctor? Can he do what you just did?”

He nodded. “He’s done it ten times now if my count’s right,” he said with a shrug. “Bit of a specialist at it by now. Whereas me, ahh, only my third.” He looked down to Rose with a cheeky smile and a waggle in his brow. “And very bedroom eyes-ish apparently.”

Rose let out a moan and shoved him away from her with both hands. “God. Please don’t let this personality stick.” She stepped out of his hold and pointed at him as she walked backward toward the door. “Because both me and Romana, we’ll line up to make you regenerate again. I’ll help her, you know that.”

His playfulness fell. “Where are you going?”

She lifted a finger up and down in the air, gesturing to his current state. “I’m gettin’ you a change of clothes and setting up the spare room.” She dropped her hand. “You’re gonna drop on your feet in a mo’ and I don’t want to have to haul you upstairs to put you in bed. Best we be ready for it.” She put her hand on Donna’s arm. “Please don’t leave till we’ve had a chance to talk.”

“Oh you can bet I’m staying,” she said with an almost threatening tone. “We’ve got a bit to talk about you and me.”

“We do,” she said with little more than a whisper. Her head was low and her expression pained. “I won’t be long.”

The new Irving Braxiatel watched with an apologetic expression as Rose walked out of the capsule doors. He truly didn’t mean to do anything to harm the only friendship that his sister in law had been able to forge properly since being forced out of Gallifrey. He should have taken a moment to search her timeline a little better, to make sure that she was truly alone when he arrived, but with his capsule ailing, and his own death and regeneration on approach, he really didn’t think he had enough time. He felt the pain inside his hearts and looked toward Donna, whose gaze upon him was still guarded.

“Please don’t be angry with her,” he asked gently.

“She lied to me,” Donna snapped in reply. “For all these months, she lied to me.”

“Because she had to,” he tried to explain. “She had no choice.”

“Everyone has a choice,” she corrected him. “Always. Even those that don’t think they do. That’s the best part of bein’ human: having the choice.”

“Even when her heart is held by a Time Lord?” he said with a little pinch of challenge in his eye. “And when all of reality hinges upon the decisions the pair of them make?” He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “With the two of them there is no such thing as _choice_.” 

“Oh don’t be daft,” she growled. “Even you lot have choice. I see it with the Doctor every day.”

He took a tentative step forward. “Do you really?” he challenged with a pinch in his brow. “Have you had the displeasure of seeing Thete presented with a situation where there is absolutely no choice at all, where people need to die just to keep the universe moving in the way it is? To maintain timelines? To prevent the destruction of yours or any other planet?”

She looked away from him, her eyes flicking off to one side. Pompeii immediately came to mind.

“You have,” he breathed out. “Haven’t you?”

She looked at him with hurt and annoyance in her eyes, but she said nothing.

“With Rose and Thete,” he continued. 

“I’m not buying it,” she snapped before he could expand on that. “The Doctor – and is his name really Thete?”

“Not the one given to him at birth, but it’s one he’ll answer to at any rate.” He rolled his eyes. “If not reluctantly. I personally refuse to call him Doctor.”

“Well. Okay.” Her widened eyes deflated into deliberate annoyance. “As I was saying. One of you might’ve forgotten to tell the Doctor about all this, because he’s actively looking for her.”

He thumbed at his nose. “He wasn’t supposed to remember her, nor the children,” he said darkly. “And for all intents and purposes, for the past couple of centuries he hasn’t.” His eyes flicked to hers. “How it is all of a sudden that he knows that which was taken from him…”

“Taken by whom?” she asked, adopting a vocabulary and tone of voice purposefully to be annoying. “Who art so powerful that they might take away that which he knows.”

Braxiatel couldn’t help but smile at that. “Rassilon,” he breathed out with amusement. “Peas in a pod, the two of you. No wonder Thete holds you in such high regard – you’re the female version of himself.”

“Oi!” she barked with offence. “I’m not like him, I’ll have you know. He’s an Alien, and I’m Human.”

He waited for her to say more. She didn’t. “And with that long list of differences, I’m unable to counter against your argument,” he said with a sigh. “You are right, of course. You’re nothing like him at all.”

“He needs to know where they are,” she said to him with warning in her eyes. “The Doctor, because them being lost to him, it hurts him.”

“You can’t tell him,” he told her with more pleading then firmness. “For the love of all reality, you can’t say a thing to him about me, about Rose and the children. You can’t bring him here.”

She folded her arms across her chest. Her glare on him was one of indignant petulance. “And why not? Because all of a sudden the universe will blink out or somethin’?” she expelled a laugh. “Yeah. Right. Because the Doctor isn’t allowed to be with the woman that he loves…”

He thought for a moment as he looked into the insolent eyes of a woman standing up for a friend. He might not have known too much about this woman, but he could tell that she would be one that would be able to argue for an eternity, no matter what he had to say in rebuttal. Finally, with a shrug, he lifted a hand and held it with the palm up at shoulder level. “Let me show you,” he said simply.

She took a half step backward from his hand. “I’m sorry, what?”

He didn’t drop his hand. “If you’re to actually understand what brought us here, and why your best friend has – as you say – lied to you all these months, then you need to see it for yourself.”

“And how do you reckon you’re going to do that?”

His head angled to one side. “Has Thete not told you that we’re telepathic?”

Her thoughts shifted to the planet with the Ood, where the Doctor had pressed his mind into hers to let her listen to the sad, soulful song of the Ood. He hadn’t specifically told her that his people were telepathic, but she had gathered as much from his Vulcan mind-meld thing.

“The last time he…” She shook her head, and then pointed to her temple. “When he went in there and let me listen to their song.” She blinked rapidly. “It made me cry.”

“And you’re worried this might do the same?”

She nodded, knowing beyond all doubt that if he wanted to show her what tore the Doctor and Rose apart, it would definitely upset her to see it.

“I can’t guarantee that it won’t,” he said with a shrug. “But it’s either you let me show you and – as is so important to you – give you the choice…” He paused a moment. “Or I simply take away the memories of what you’ve seen here and remove that choice completely.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t.”

“Do you really want to try me, Donna?” His eyes pinched with warning. “I’m both a telepathic _and_ hypnotic specialist – much like Thete is. I won’t have to get your permission to enter your mind. Gallifreyan law gives me the right to remove all knowledge from your mind … to save reality.” His warning voice fell to one that was more disinterested. “I’m just offering you the courtesy out of respect to my brother and his wife.”

“But…”

He looked to the doorway. “Rose has already lost far too much to protect his – and my – home.” His eyes flicked back to hers. “I won’t allow her any more heartbreak and loss, or have her sacrifice mean nothing because you want to tell him, and he’s too bullheaded to know to stay away from her.” His sniff lifted his lip. “He’s in my heart, Donna, but that Lord infuriates me like no other. Thinks he knows better than everyone else.”

“Can’t disagree on that point,” she admitted. “Can be a bit more than holier than thou at times.”

“With that in mind. Will you, then?” he asked. “Let me show you?”

She closed her eyes and nodded. She took a step forward and braced herself for contact. Her body was rigid, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Her body jumped in shock when he spoke against her ear. “I need you to relax,” he said softly. “I promise you, I’ll be gentle. There is nothing to be afraid of.”

“God,’ she breathed as she shook herself and tried to relax. “Make it sound like you’re about to take my virginity or something.”

He chuckled breathily. “Something tells me I am,” he said softly. “But only of the mind, of course.”

She had a retort ready for him, but swallowed it down as she felt him press into her mind. Her hands flicked out to grab onto his arms as the press against her mind became a more direct form of pressure. She let out a yelp as she felt a soft pop in her mind and the almost hurtful pressure became a sensation of incredible warmth.

“My,” he said with a breathy chuckle. “He didn’t actually get inside you too deeply, did he?”

“Don’t be smart,” she answered with a smile. And she did smile. The feeling of him inside her head had no comparison by which to describe it. It was a vulnerability that was close to being pleasurable and unlike the moment with the Doctor, where she demanded he get out of her head, she felt that she could wallow inside this feeling forever. She felt safe. Even as he seemed to wander around inside her mind.

“Just getting my bearings,” he advised her with a smile. “Although I will take that as a compliment.”

“Take what?”

“That you enjoy my presence inside your mind.” His joviality faltered a little. “Ahh. It might get uncomfortable now, but please, hold on as best you can.” He inhaled a couple of breaths. “Ready?”

“Ready,” she breathed. 

She faltered as a bright light seemed to crack like lightning across her mind. Her hands gripped harder onto his arms as the bright light shifted into vivid imagery of Rose arguing with a woman that looked just like her. The words they spoke, in the language spoken between Rose and her children, swirled and bobbed with lyrical beauty that she had no way of understanding. A hiccup, and the words shifted into English. She watched the two women talk, battling to hear over the shattered, yet demanding voice of Rose’s husband – the previous form of the Doctor – as he pounded desperately against an invisible wall that stood between them. The children looked terrified. Rose looked utterly distraught. The Doctor, well, he was completely shattered. With the way he was pounding at the wall, it surprised her that he hadn’t draw blood or even break his hands. 

The words spoken by the woman who looked just like Rose were horrific. Gallifrey, and indeed the whole of reality was at risk, and it’s survival hung on them – the Doctor and Rose – having to separate.

“ _I will find you,”_ he promised her fiercely _. “I promise you that. No matter where in the universe you are, I’ll rip it all apart and find you.”_

Her heart started to break on both of their behalves.

When Rose finally made her decision to leave him to protect Gallifrey and ensure it’s survival over a life with him, Donna felt something inside her break. The Doctor fell, defeated to the floor. Unable to hold his two children in his arms for the last time, and having to stay strong in front of them, act as though nothing was wrong, when all he wanted to do was fall apart completely.

Husband and wife came together tearfully one last time, touching each other via a glass barrier. “ _Wait for me, because I promise you, Rose. I promise I’m already on my way to you_.”

She saw his family turn from him and head into a glowing rip in the fabric of time, and then him try and run to them when the barrier fell….

…But he was caught. Trapped by the power of the wolf. Everything he knew, and everything he loved most in the universe was torn from his mind – his very soul ripped out from inside his chest. Screaming out for his family and screaming out not to have everything taken from him.

When the Doctor finally fell unmoving to the ground, Donna decided she’d seen enough. “Stop it,” she pleaded sadly.

“As you wish,” Braxiatel answered her, slowly withdrawing form her mind, but keeping hold of her to prevent her collapsing to the floor. “Are you okay?”

Her eyes flashed open and focused fist upon his, and then on a flesh coloured mole that sat just high of his left eyebrow. She panted as she struggled to stay on her feet. Her cheeks were wet and her eyes swollen. “What was that?” she breathed out.

“Their last moment together,” he told her softly. “And the reason why you can’t run to him now.”

She pulled out of his hold and staggered backward. She held her arms around herself and stumbled against the wall. “Why did you have to show me that?” She panted and scrubbed at her eye with her sleeve. “Why?”

“Because you need to understand,” he told her firmly. “So that you don’t break her heart anymore than it already is,” he demanded with a point at the doorway. “Rose gave it all up to save Gallifrey. She’s been through so much to now, to end it by letting him find her will undo it all.”

“And who says it hasn’t already fallen apart,” Donna said with a growl. “The Doctor’s already seen the end of the war. He’s already seen the destruction of Gallifrey.”

“Has he?” Braxiatel asked her with a tilt in his head. “Or does he believe what she – this Bad Wolf – wants him to see.” He began a slow pacing walk. “His role in the final days of Time War aren’t over yet.” He spun to look at her. “No. She said he would have a much more important role to play as his pinstriped self. Tell me, Donna. Does my brother wear pinstripes in this incarnation?”

“He does,” she confirmed quietly.

“Then I have to believe that there’s something he needs to do that he wouldn’t do if Rose was at his side.” He huffed. “And so we have to keep them apart for a while longer.” He grunted. “Ugh. Don’t have a clear eye on the timelines right now.”

Rose’s voice filtered in from the doorway. “That’s because you’ve just regenerated,” she warned him as she handed him a small handful of folded clothes. “Pyjamas,” she said with a smile. “Because if you’re anything like the Doctor after his regeneration, you’ll be out for a few hours. Best be comfy.”

He nodded and looked down at himself, and his torn and bloody clothing. His lips curled with horror. “Rassilon, but I look a fright. Do I have enough time to shower before the regenerative sleep takes hold?”

“Probably not,” she answered. “But that’s fine. It’s what a washer is for, yeah?” She rubbed his arm. “Or you can just buy me a new set. I always did prefer the Kasterborean blend better than the ones on Earth.”

He kissed her temple. “Thanks, Rose. Spare room, I gather?”

“I’ll call Romana for you once you’re settled. Give her the heads up that she just had an upgrade in the husband department.” She shuffled him toward the door. “Now, you. Off you pop and get some sleep. I’ll make you something hearty to eat for when you wake up.”

“Thank you again,” he said with a genuine smile. He looked across to Donna. “Can I trust you, Donna?”

“What other choice do I have?” she asked sadly. “He’ll lose everything, won’t he?”

“I’m afraid that we all will.”

“Then you can trust me,” she said with a nod.

He nodded and touched at Rose’s arm as he walked to the door. “Please ask Romana to arrive sooner than later.” He lifted his eyes to Donna. “I’d really prefer that Donna speak with her before she leaves today.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

“In my hearts,” he breathed out to her as she walked out of the capsule.

Rose looked toward Donna. She was now properly terrified at just what form of admonishment was about to be levered in her direction. She was more terrified of losing her best friend. “Donna,” she breathed out apologetically. “I’m so sorry…”

“Oh come here,” she huffed out with a fast stride forward. She snatched Rose into a tight hug. “I’m not gonna lie to you and say that we’re all good, Blondie. That I’m not furious as all at you right now.” She held her that little bit tighter. “But I get it. I do. I know why you had to do it.”

Rose lifted her chin to set it on Donna’s shoulder. “Have I lost you, then?”

“Not yet,” she said with a sigh. “But at some point you and me have to talk about this.”

“Am I still your best friend?”

The almost pathetic way the question was asked actually broke Donna’s heart just a little. Rose was a woman who had lost so much and was terrified to lose anything more. “Of course you are,” she assured her softly. “Just because I’m mad at you, doesn’t mean that I don’t still love you.” She chuckled ruefully. “And how mental is it, Rose, that my two best friends are you and the Doctor … and I can never ever introduce the two of you.”

Rose breathed out a series of lyrical syllables against Donna’s ear. A series of syllables that Donna could immediately tell were an unpleasant phrase in the Doctor’s native language.

“All is forgiven if you teach me that one,” Donna said with a laugh as she finally pulled out of the embrace. Her brow tilted upward. “And if we can finish our drinks.”

Rose wiped at her eyes. Now that she’d washed her hands and face and changed her sweater, she could do so without smearing Braxiatel’s blood all over her. “You’ve got a deal.”


	66. A Moment of Weakness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romana has a favour to ask of Rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had intended on getting to the Doctor's Daughter today ... not just run with this chapter ... but it turns out I'm a lot busier today than I expected that I should be. Such is the life of a really untrained and unprepared substitute teacher having to try and wrangle a teenager into doing school work that he has absolutely no interest at all in. I don't know how real teachers handle it!
> 
> So anyway. I do hope that you enjoy this chapter. Believe me when I say that this actually does have a rather significant effect on the decisions made by a gruff old fellow who is done with war in a few chapters time.
> 
> :)
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me. We're actually almost there, kids. ALMOST....

~~oooOOOooo~~

Rose stood at her window, hidden behind a curtain, watching the scene outside as the Doctor and Donna battled to save Wilf from his car. She didn’t understand exactly what was going on, just that her elderly friend was trapped inside a vehicle filling with gas. She wanted to help. She wanted to break free of her isolation, run outside with something sharp and heavy, and help the old man…

…But she couldn’t. Not now. Not right now.

“Smash the window,” she said urgently against the thick drape of the curtain. “Get out from underneath the car, Doctor. Use your sonic, a rock, anything…”

Romana’s soft voice spoke gently at her side. “Don’t worry about Wilfred. He’s still got quite an impressive timeline left ahead of him.”

Rose turned her head, looking down her shoulder in Romana’s direction, but no toward her. “Brax is okay?”

She stood at Rose’s side at the window. She didn’t bother to hide herself like Rose was forced to do. She stood in the centre of the large bay window, looking across the road at the struggle of her old friend to open the vehicle. “Brax is fine. He’ll be asleep for a while longer yet.” She inhaled deeply. “Are you okay with us staying with you for a day or two while he recovers?”

“Of course,” Rose replied with enough incredulity to suggest that it was expected that they would. “I insist on it.”

Romana put her hand on Rose’s arm in a tender gesture of appreciation. “Thank you, Rose. For being there.” She stroked her hand down her arm. “Regeneration is par for the course for us, but it doesn’t make it any less terrifying to go through.”

Rose’s eyes shifted back to the window to focus on the man in the pinstriped suit across the road. “I’m just glad he knew he could come to me. I…” She took a breath. “I’m here for you as much as the two of you are here for me.” A chuckle that held no humour at all huffed through her nose. “As much as a Human can be at any rate.”

“You’d be very surprised just how important you are to him,” she answered softly. Her eyes flicked up to the Doctor across the road, now hauling Wilf out of the car after Sylvia had smashed open with an axe. “That’s him?”

Rose looked up to the Doctor and nodded. “It is.”

“Handsome,” she noted with a smirk.

“And he knows it,” Rose said with a sigh. “Although he does sometimes pretend that he doesn’t. Not that anyone buys that nonsense for a moment.” Her breath drew in shakily as the knowledge of him being so damn close, yet so far away at the same time hit home. “It’s not fair,” she breathed out sadly. “I love him, Romana. I need him so much.”

“I’m not even going to try and offer you any empty platitudes to try and make you feel better or stronger for it,” Romana answered softly. “If I was in your position, I don’t know that I’d have the strength to hold back like you are.”

“Gallifrey will fall if I don’t,” she said sadly, trying desperately to hold onto that one little fact to stop her from breaking down completely and running toward him. She closed her eyes and turned her back to the window. Her inhale was deep and broken. “I have to remind myself, Romana. Remind myself how I ended up on Gallifrey to begin with.” She opened her eyes to gaze into the gentle face of the Time Lady. “I left that him because he couldn’t love me the way I needed him to love me.” She gulped in a mouthful of air. “And I have to convince myself that he’ll never be capable of it.”

“We both know that’s a lie.”

“Is it though?” she asked with a micro shrug of her shoulders. She slid her hands into the pockets of her jeans. There was a very uncharacteristic slump in her shoulders. “He’s a very different man to the two I knew before him. They loved me with both of their hearts. Him…” She looked back to the window. “He only ever wanted to push me away.”

“He was manipulated by a power greater than all of us,” Romana reminded her. “The hearts inside that man out there beat for you just as much as the hearts of any man before him did – and just as much as those of any man what will walk out of the flames of regeneration after him.”

“If I ran out there now,” she asked with a lift in her chin. “If I showed you the weakness I have inside right now, and ran outside to plead his forgiveness…”

“And beg for his love,” Romana finished for her. She looked through the window at him. “I wouldn’t stop you.” 

Rose tilted her head to one side. “You wouldn’t?”

She exhaled a single huff of a laugh. “Rose. I’ll hold the door open for you.” Her eyes shifted to her. “If that’s what you want. I hate seeing you and the children in this state of heartbreak.” Her eyes shifted back to the window. “You can end that all for you – and for them – right now, and I wouldn’t stop you. I won’t even judge you for it.”

Rose looked toward the window, then to the door, and then back to the window. “God. I’m so tempted.”

Romana broke from her position and walked to the door. She didn’t falter at all in transitioning from walking into opening the front door. She stood at the very centre of the door, braced against the wet chill breeze from the outside with her almost regal posture of pride. Her eyes locked on the man outside who was bracing to run, practically calling to him with only her eyes. 

Romana remained firm in place and watched as the Doctor paused in his movement for escape. He looked toward the doorway, toward her. She could see the sudden catch in his breath, and a pinch of unsure recognition in his eyes. A tilt in his head warned her that he would very likely approach to attempt to sate his curiosity as to who she was, and she almost welcomed it.

Rose quickly snatched her hand and pulled her out of the doorway. “Romana!” she hissed through her teeth as the woman stumbled ungracefully out of the doorway. Rose slammed the door and pressed her back up against it, bracing it against whatever force may come. “What are you doing?”

Romana steadied herself and offered Rose an affectionate look. “Giving you the choice,” she offered.

“Are you nuts?” Rose hissed, deliberately keeping ger voice low as though they could be heard by others. “If he sees you, he’s going to get curious.”

“He saw me,” she confirmed. “And he is, indeed, curious.”

Rose spun against the door and lifted up onto her toes to try a sneak peek though the small window. She could see him across the road, looking across at the door with a pinch in his eye that was suspicious. She panted with worry. “My God, Romana! Why would you do that?”

“To prove to you that you’re so much stronger than you think you are,” she answered simply. She stepped beside Rose and lifted onto her toes to look across the street. The Doctor was still staring at the door with a pinch in his brow. “You’ve already come so far, Rose. Been stronger than even the most stoic of the Time Lords. A moment of weakness is just that: a moment. A fleeting dance with _what-if_ , that’s all.”

Rose still looked at the Doctor. “But what if he…?”

Romana chuckled. “He has the attention span of a gnat, that one. He’ll lose interest in a second.”

No sooner had she uttered the words, and Donna was at his side. She said something to him, and the Doctor’s focus shifted immediately. He nodded to his companion, took her hand, and together they ran off without a second glance.

“Told you,” she said with a chuckle. “He’s got other things to worry about than a strange woman watching him from a doorway.” She pressed her hands into the door and pushed herself backward with a flex of her fingers. 

“That was close to being cruel,” Rose accused softly as she pushed herself off the door and walked the small hallway toward the kitchen. She paused at Braxiatel’s damaged capsule and winced at the drying puddle of orange-crimson blood still pooled there. She winced. “I really should clean that up.”

“I’ve already put in a request for a clean-up and recovery team to clear that up for you,” Romana said with a soft voice. She found herself unable to look at the stain herself and reached for Rose’s hand. There was a shake in her arm as she took Rose’s hand in hers. “Rassilon, Rose. What did you have to see?”

“Nothing I ever want to see again,” she admitted with a wince. “Especially not with someone I love.” She let out a shaking sigh and stepped a long stride over the puddle to walk into the kitchen. “I’m glad the kids weren’t here to see it. It’d have destroyed them to see Brax like that.”

“How are they settling into their respective new settings?” she asked in an abrupt switch of topics. She didn’t want either of them to dwell on Braxiatel’s regeneration right now, and what led him to need to regenerate in the first place. “Are they doing well?”

“Better than I am,’ Rose admitted sadly as she automatically moved into preparing a pot of tea for them both. “If I’m being honest.”

“Free time is not a friend of yours, I take it?”

Rose shook her head. “I have nothing left to take my mind off my own loneliness.” She folded her arms across her chest and leaned back on the counter in a guarded slouch. “My babies, and taking care of each one of their whims and demands … it takes my mind off the whims and demands that I have.”

“You need to be occupied,” Romana agreed softly. 

“Time moves faster if I am.” She shifted her sorrowful eyes toward the one she called her sister. “It makes forgetting him that much easier.”

“You shouldn’t forget him.”

“I can’t survive any other way.”

Romana moved onto a tall stool across the breakfast bar to Rose. She leaned down onto her elbows into a slouch. “He wouldn’t want you to wallow, Rose. You know that.”

“Tough,” Rose growled with a curl in her lip. “I’m going to wallow, and I’m going to cry, and I’m going to curse the entire universe for what it did to us.” She looked at Romana with challenge in her eyes. “Just like he would, like you would, like Brax would, like _anyone_ would.” She let out a breath. “I’ve seen him in pain, Romana. I’ve seen how much he can hurt and how deeply he lets it set in and guide his path. If he remembered and truly understood just why it is that we aren’t together right now raising our family like we should be – I really don’t think the Time War would be the only thing capable of destroying the universe.”

Romana smiled at that and extended an arm along the width of the countertop to gently set her hand on Rose’s forearm, still held tightly against her chest. “It pleases me no end that you truly believe he loves you and your children that much.”

“The one who begged me not to leave him did,” she answered. “He never gave me any reason to doubt the depth of his feelings for me and the children.”

Romana smiled. “And the bond might have helped out with that.”

“Even without it,” Rose said sadly. “I’d have known, yeah? He made sure I knew.” She looked up to the ceiling. “God, I miss being loved like that.” She closed her eyes and let herself see him with her mind’s eye, and the reverent devotion he always showed her when they were alone. She quickly cleared her throat and rolled her back to push off the counter with her hip. “Anyway,” she croaked out. “Tea?”

“Of course,” Romana answered with a tender smile. “And if you have any of your pie left, I’d appreciate a piece of that as well.”

“You guys and your love of pie,” she said with a laugh. “You were all: Don’t want it, don’t like it, don’t ruin the preciousness of our fruits by making it…”

“And then we tried it,” Romana said with a laugh. “And out minds were immediately swayed in the opposite direction.”

Rose pulled open the fridge and slid out a pie tray that still had around a third of the pie she’d cooked the night before. “Need me to heat it up?”

“Do you have icecream?”

“That I do,” she replied with a smile. Rose dropped to grab a big tub of vanilla icecream from the fridge and dumped it on the table. Rather than pull out two plates, she drew out two big spoons instead. She handed one to Romana. “No silver service in this house. At least, not today.”

Romana chuckled, but dug into the pie even before Rose dumped a decent slathering of icecream on it. She eyeballed her spoonful with hungry eyes and popped it into her mouth. She purred as she chewed her morsel and then swallowed with a smile. She hovered her spoon over the blob of icecream with the intent to take another bit but waited for Rose to scoop a spoonful for herself first.

“Braxiatel and I have a request of you, Rose.” She said softly. “One which may assist with your need to be busy.”

“And what might that be?” she asked with a mouthful before she swallowed, which she did so with a sheepish lift of her hand to cover her mouth. “Sorry, that was rude.”

Romana flicked her hand with a shrug. “No, you’re okay. Brax can be just as chatty with a mouthful at times. Quite used to it.” She stabbed her spoon into the ice-cream. “What Braxiatel and I wish to ask of you – it’s not going to be an easy task.”

Rose leaned down onto the table, her forearms on the counter, and her spoon held in both hands in front of her. “Don’t you think I’m up to the task?”

“Quite the opposite, actually,” she answered as she lifted her spoon and admired the melting ice-cream dripping down over the pie. “We happen to believe – in the entire universe – no one is as up to the task as you may be.”

“Then I’m all ears.”

Romana set down her spoon and licked at her lip as she thought of the best starting point. This would be so much easier in a council meeting situation, where she could make demands and set orders. Rose was family, and therefore acting as President was not a viable path to wander down.

“As you know,” she began. “We are at war. Not just Gallifrey, nor just Kasterborous, but the entire universe.”

Rose nodded. “All of reality at stake,” she agreed.

“And there are casualties,” she continued. “Refugees from our planet and beyond that need safe haven.”

Rose’s lips pursed worriedly. “Okay. And how does this involve me?”

“A travel capsule takes up very little space, but holds an entire planet within it’s doors,” she answered with a look upward toward her. “Gallifrey is not safe right now, for anyone. Not safe for our people, for our injured.”

“And you’d like to send them here,” Rose determined. “Where they have at least a small amount of protection from the war.”

“We don’t see the war extending toward Mutter’s spiral any time soon,” Romana breathed out with a certain measure of relief. “The Daleks are targeting Kasterborous, Gallifrey specifically. They’ve made an enemy of the Doctor, and therefore our entire species need to face that wrath as well.” She exhaled. “Likely through our puppeteering of the Doctor in his younger incarnations toward destroying the Kaled race.”

Rose winced. “So the Gallifreyan forces can contain them in your reach of the universe…”

“While the resistance fortifies planets that have no way of protecting themselves against the might of the Dalek force,” she breathed out with a sad voice. “We’ve lost planets and entire civilisations since the onset of war. Civilisations – innocent people – that I refuse to concede are mere collateral damage. Just insignificant stepping stones toward Gallifrey.”

“Like the people of Gallifrey,” Rose added. “The innocent peoples, the children…”

“Precisely,” Romana agreed. “They are my people, Rose. Despite not being their President anymore thanks to the rise of Rassilon from his tomb.” She tipped her head to one side and winced. “They are still my people and they don’t deserve to helplessly watch as their planet and their homes are destroyed.”

“And definitely not be killed for it,” Rose said softly. “Which is the nature of war – the death of innocence.”

“The breeder of hatred,” Romana added. “And my people, they should not be victims in this because a few hundred arrogant Time Lords over the centuries decided they should play Gods amongst an entire civilisation of peoples – despite the Daleks being the sort that should never have been allowed to be created in the first place.” Her lips curled with distaste. “Cursed creatures though they are.”

“I’ve seen them in action,” Rose said with her own level of distaste. “I’ve seen how little they care for any of the innocent lives they step on and step over to move forward with their plans.”

Romana’s eyes flicked toward her. “So that said, Rose.” She swallowed. “Can we rely upon you as a safe haven for my people? To temporarily home any refugees that the resistance members can safely remove from Gallifrey without detection from council?” She looked over her shoulder toward the yard, a large portion of it covered with a long awning. Currently there was a rather annoyed looking white wolf seated in the centre of that yard, but Romana could envision a semi-circle of Arcs and Capsules capable of safely containing hundreds of thousands – perhaps even millions of her people. She tried to formulate a plan in her mind, and a description of how it could be achieved to Rose. How she could put it in such a way that she could ensure that it wouldn’t interfere at all with her children.

Rose beat her to it. “You can set up some capsules in my yard.” She pointed toward the Capsule that was parked as a cupboard against the wall. Where Braxiatel had regenerated. “You can set that up as a hospital ship if necessary. Transport your injured for treatment, or a safe haven for falling into restorative comas. I’d really prefer a facility of that nature remain indoors rather than outside.” She pursed her lips. “Of course, I’m not a doctor or a nurse, so you’d need to post a few of them here. To provide treatment.” She rubbed her chin. “And of course, to make sure that the refugees have immediate medical attention should any of them need it while housed here.”

Romana’s eyes flicked to Rose, wide with surprise. “Here I was thinking that your kind weren’t telepathic.”

Rose’s brow pinched together. “We aren’t.”

“You just read my mind,” she said almost breezily. “And this is fine with you?”

Rose gave a nod of her head. “Gallifrey’s my home as well,” she affirmed fiercely. “And when this war is over, and your forces have won – I fully intend on forcing you and Brax into taking me home.”

“There will be no need to force us,” Romana said with a smile. “Brax and I – we would welcome your return.”

“And in order for us to do that,” Rose aid with a sigh. “We need a home to come _home_ to.” She clapped her hands and rubbed them together. “So when do we get started?”

“When are you ready?”

“Well,” Rose said with a slight dip in her head. “No time like the present. I do, of course, have to pick up my children from school and daycare. Do you think you can have that mess in the hallway cleaned up and a few things in place before I get home?”

Romana blinked. “Yes. Yes. Of course.” She looked at her with seriousness. “But are you absolutely sure of this?”

Rose smirked. “It’s not like I’ve never had a big party of Time Lords in my kitchen before demanding food and drink and my room.” She shrugged. “What’s a few thousand more of them?” A smile broke out on her face. “And the kids would love the company of other children running around.”


	67. The Doctor's Daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor's Daughter....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for no chappy yesterday. I got something pretty big thrown in my direction, and was unable to get the time needed to write. That and then I had a fight with one of those horribly fragile double-walled David's Tea espresso cups that left me all bloody and nasty and had me cursing my existence as I pulled chunks of glass out of my hands and arms. PSA: Do not attempt to catch one of these cups as even looking at the damn things will make them shatter. Grabbing a startled hold of one will make it shatter in your hand. And as they are aggressive satanic mongrels when they shatter you will end up with bits and pieces embedded in your skin.
> 
> But if it helps, this is a massive chapter .... never thought it'd end....
> 
> As always, as this is chapter contains an episode that I completely butchered to within an inch of its life -- if there is anything you recognise, then credit must go to RTD and his writing team.
> 
> I sinceriously hope that you enjoy this chapter.

~~oooOOOooo~~

It was a trip of the likes Donna had not experienced before in the TARDIS. The ride was hard and violent, and the Doctor more panicked about the journey than usual. The three of them were thrown in all directions, all of them trying desperately to hold on.

“What the hell’s it doing?” Donna demanded sharply, trying to fall back on sass to hide her own worry.

The Doctor had his teeth grit tightly together as he ran around the console and tried to make sense of controls that would not respond to his input. “The control’s not working.”

Martha’s initial fury at being trapped in the TARDIS as it took flight had quickly turned into worry at that exclamation. She could see the Doctor’s utter confusion as to the sudden dematerialisation and uncontrolled flight path. While, yes, there were times that he did fly the old girl a little rough, he had never expressed any concern that the TARDIS had flown on her own…

…Except that one time … and she had ended up having to walk the Earth on a year-long mission of heartbreak, pain, and suffering. God, she hoped this wasn’t going to end up on a similar vein.

She watched the Doctor lean over the edge of the console, thrown there by the pitch of the TARDIS.

“I don’t know where we’re going,” he remarked almost coolly. “But my old hand’s very excited about it.”

Donna gaped as she held on tight. “I thought that was just some freaky alien thing.” She looked at him with wide eyes of utter disgust. “You telling me that’s yours?”

“Well,” the Doctor drawled.

Martha leaned to one side to put herself in sight of Donna. She knew what it was. She was introduced to it on a flight that started off quite similar to this one. “It got cut off. He grew a new one.”

Donna huffed and growled simultaneously. She was equal parts aghast and disgusted. “You are completely impossible.”

“Not impossible,” he corrected her as he continued to fight the ship. “Just a bit unlikely.”

There was a large bang that rained sparks down from the time rotor column and onto their heads. They each lifted their arms to shield themselves from it. Then, with a final shudder and huff from above, the ship stilled. The Doctor didn’t even wait to check on the wellbeing of his companions after the bumpy ride. He ran to the doorway, his coat billowing over his blue suit, without looking back at them.

He ripped open the TARDIS doors, pausing just short of stepping over her threshold and took a quick look around them. Wherever it was, it was a mess. It appeared to be a junkyard within a subway tunnel. His brows both lifted and drew together as he looked around with a light grit in his teeth.

“Why would the TARDIS bring us here then?” he asked with a rhetorical tone, truly not expecting to hear any answer at al from any of his companions. He stepped outside and twisted left and right to take a mild reconnaissance, and to silently let his companions know to follow him.

Martha wore a smile of thrill as she followed. “Oh, I love this bit.”

Donna was on her heels. Her voice had calmed considerably since the TARDIS finally shuddered into silence. She had her eyes on Martha. “I thought you wanted to go home?”

“I know,” she admitted. Her face bore a smile. “But all at the same time, it’s that feeling you get.”

Geez. What kind of feeling was that? “Like you swallowed a hamster?”

“Don’t move! Stay where you are!” A firm voice called out to the three of them, which stopped them in their tracks. “Drop your weapons!” 

The Doctor instantly took a step in between a group of soldiers and his companions. He could see three large rifles being pointed in their direction, so his hands quickly shot up in a gesture of surrender. “We’re unarmed,” he said firmly. “Look, no weapons.” His lip lifted in disgust at the weapons aimed in his direction. “Never any weapons. We’re safe.”

One of the men looked over his weapon. “Look at their hands,” he called out. “They’re clean.”

The obvious leader of the group gave a firm nod and flicked his hand toward them. “All right, process them.” He gestured toward the Doctor. “Him first.”

The Doctor held back a peep of surprise as being accosted by two men, who grabbed him firmly and dragged him toward a large looking machine. “Oi! Oi. What’s wrong with clean hands.”

Martha followed behind him. As expected, she was worried and concerned for her friend and of the manhandling he was receiving at the hands of these soldiers. “What’s going on?”

Donna was less about the questions and more about making demands. She hotly demanded the Doctor’s release even as his entire arms was shoved into a machine. “Leave him alone!”

The Doctor’s arm was deep inside the machine, and he held at the casing of it with his other hand. Something clamped around his wrist to hold him in place, and he tugged at his arm trying to shake it loose. His voice had the waver of worry, although he tried to appear nonchalant. “Something tells me this isn’t about to check my blood pressure.” He let out a yelp of pain and struggled to free himself.

Donna rushed forward only to be held backward. “What are you doing to him?”

The man who held her grunted under her struggling. “Everyone gets processed.”

“It’s taken a tissue sample,” the Doctor managed through gritted teeth.” He peppered out a series of painful sounds of protest and practically ran on the spot to try and free himself. “Ow ow ow ow ow ow owow! And extrapolated it,” he continued in a voice telling all of them he was still in pain. “Some kind of accelerator?”

The clamp around his wrist finally released, and the Doctor pulled out of the machine with a stagger. He staggered a good three steps backward, with his smarting hand held up at his chest. Martha was quickly at his side. She pulled his hand to give it a look-over, using the tender explorative touch of a doctor.

“Are you all right?”

His brow was high as he looked a the graze on the back of his hand. Now, he was annoyed. That was completely unnecessary. Who did they think they were to go ahead and mark him up like that?

“What on Earth? That’s just….”

His words stopped abruptly as a machine that was connected to the one that took the tissue sample immediately lit up with life. Smoke and steam quickly billowed up from the bottom of the doorway, where he could see the silhouette of a person. The machine whirred, clicked, and then hissed as though demanding silence from all.

A pair of glass doors opened, and a very pretty young blonde woman wearing skin-tight black fatigue trousers and an equally tight khaki shirt stepped out. She looked around her with wide eyes and a curious expression on her young face. She looked as though she was ready to make a remark of observation of some kind, but sucked her words back inside her mouth as a large gun was thrust into her arms. She looked at it with an expression of disdain.

“Arm yourself,” the squad leader ordered, ignoring the look of petulance she gave him to turn back and talk to the rest of his men. With a shake in her head, she swiftly turned the weapon in her hands, dismantling it without words.

Martha’s eyes were wide as she looked at the woman. “Where did she come from?”

The Doctor looked just as surprised as both his companions. “From me,” he answered with a swallow.

Donna frowned with puzzlement. “I’m sorry. From you? How? Who is she?”

The Doctor’s eyes rolled slightly as the piece began to fall in his mind. As much as he wasn’t willing to accept the circumstance, he couldn’t exactly deny or lie about it. “Well, she’s…” He tipped his head to one side in almost a shrug and tried to speak around a swallow. “Well, she’s my daughter.”

The young woman looked up at his voice with an expression of surprise. Surprise fell to amusement. “Oh you have no idea how right you are about that.” 

He dipped slightly forward. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh, yes. That’s right. Propriety in the face of danger and all.” Her face quickly broke out into a smile that stretched across the entirety of her cheeks. “Hello Dad!”

Her face lengthened with surprise and slight chagrin when the leader of the group interrupted with a voice that was as much question as order. “You primed and ready to take orders? Ready to fight?”

Her blue eyes blinked rapidly, and she opened her mouth to reply. Any words she may have uttered in response were quickly drowned out and then cut as the machine behind her uttered a long and loud howl. It whirred and shuddered, smoked and steamed. With a resounding bang that echoed throughout the tunnel, the machine exploded. Well, it wasn’t all piping hot projectiles and balls of yellow and orange flame. It was more a loud clang of internal systems failing and collapsing, ending with the machine splitting along it’s centre – both sides falling with a loud clatter to the floor. It hissed and spluttered, but didn’t quite fall silent when the lights went out. It hummed and even spluttered before it gave a final heave, and blessedly, it went silent.

“Oh,” the young blonde remarked with what appeared to be guilt. “I didn’t quite expect that to happen.”

“That’s what happens,” the Doctor growled with a fast stride toward the woman and the group of soldiers behind her. “When you recklessly try to progenate an offspring of a Time Lord.” He gestured to the machine with a thrust of his hand. “These machines need to be specifically calibrated toward the species you want to progenate from. And, well, you chose one of the most complex of all species to try and create an offspring from, didn’t you?”

The woman smirked a smile that lifted only one cheek. “Not _that_ complex,” she said under her breath. “If a Human can produce one.”

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor barked angrily, with absolutely no apology in his voice at all. “Are you arguing with a Time Lord? A _Human_?” He flicked a hand and shifted a shoulder to stand sideways to her. “Typical. Humans and thinking they know everything, when quite honestly, they know very little at all.”

The young woman snarled. “As I’m from you, Time Lord,” she fired back angrily. “That makes me a Time Lady, not Human. But allow me to express offence on behalf of everyone else here who’s Human...” She spoke a series of hotly delivered, yet very melodical syllables that caused the Doctor’s eyes to widen and his jaw to drop with disbelief.

His face contorted into an expression of fury as he turned ever so slowly to face her. “How dare you,” he said through gritted teeth. “How dare you take the language of my people and say something like _that_.”

She folded her arms across her chest and gave him an indignant, petulant look. “And where do you think I learned it?”

He strode toward her, his finger high to point toward the tip of her nose. He noted the way her eyes crossed to focus on his finger – and how positively adorable it was that she did that – but didn’t let that sway him from being angry with her. “You took it from my head,” he corrected her. “When _they_ made you. A data download is not the same thing as me teaching you.”

Her eyes steeled and she stood firm against his ire. “Learning’s learning, _Dad_. Doesn’t matter how the data was – as you say – _downloaded_. Technically, you taught it to me.”

Martha was amused. “Yep. She’s your daughter all right.”

Donna was confused. She shook her head and waved a hand. “Hold on. Just hold on a minute. Did you call him _Dad_?” she looked at the Doctor and slapped him on the arm to get his attention. “And did you call her your _daughter_? How is that possible.”

“Technically,” he seethed. “We are father and daughter.”

Martha’s interest was adequately tempted. “Technically now?”

“Progenation,” he answered without taking his eyes off the young woman in front of him with eyes of absolute challenge. “Reproduction from a single organism. Means one parent is biological mother and father.”

The woman smirked. “You take a sample of diploid cells, split them into haploids, then recombine them in a different arrangement and grow.” Her head tilted. “Time Lords have been using this method of procreation for millennia, haven’t they, Dad?”

“Stop taking the memories and knowledge from my head and pretending they’re yours,” he growled.

She held up her hand and turned her face toward her left. “Shhh,” she hissed out. “Something’s coming.”

The Doctor’s attention snapped into the direction that his daughter was staring. He could see tall dark shadows moving along the walls toward them. His eyes fell from the shadow and onto the opening of the tunnel, watching and waiting to see what would follow. He didn’t have to wait too long, and as a group of peoples rounded the corner, he was thrown off to one side by the angry fire of high-powered weapons.

“It’s the Hath!” the lead soldier called with a wave of his arm to his men. “Return fire!”

“Get down!” the young woman called out as she shoved the Doctor to the ground with both hands. She snatched a weapon from the ground and grit her teeth as she braced to shoot back. Her brows knitted together, however, when she seemed unable to get the weapon to fire. She pulled the trigger several times but got nothing but empty clicks. “Rassilon,” she cursed as she let the gun fall in her hand at her side, and she let up a moan. “Well that’s useless, isn’t it?”

“Good thing,” the Doctor said with a swallow. “Guns. Nasty things, they are.”

“Rather use one than end up dead,” she snipped in reply. “Or end up with you or your companions dead.”

His eyes pinched and he flicked a curious look in her direction.

The squad leader thrust an arm in the Direction of the Doctor. “We have to blow the tunnel,” he ordered. “Use the detonator.”

The Doctor looked disgusted at the thought. “I’m not detonating anything.” He looked toward an injured soldier. “I will, however, help with your injured.” He jogged over to a wounded man on the ground followed closely by Martha, who was ready and willing to assist. The Doctor looked to her. “Martha, we should find…”

“First Aid kit,” she finished with a nod. “I’ll try and find one.”

She’d only moved a handful of feet before the Hath broke through the barricades. One of them grabbed her across the waist and shoulder from behind. She kicked and yelled for freedom.

“Blow the thing!” the squad leader yelled out. “Blow the thing!”

The young woman nodded and, after delivering a heavy kick to one of the Hath, and across to the detonator. She let out a growl as she slammed her hand down on it. Her eyes were wide as a loud klaxon sounded. She spun and ducked as an almighty explosion destroyed the roof, raining rocks and debris down on them all.

“What did you do?” the Doctor demanded hotly once the final tremors of the explosion ebbed off. He stalked toward her and asked the question again. All he received in reply with rapid blink of her eyes and a shake of her head as though she was clearing her mind of the explosion. He pointed toward the collapsed wall behind them. “You’ve sealed off the tunnel. Why did you do that?”

She was on her hip in amongst the debris on the ground and when she looked up her breath caught as his tall and looming stature of fury above her. “They. They were trying to kill us.”

“Now they’ve got my friend,” he said with darkness in his voice. “Because of you, they’ve got her, and I’ve got no way of getting to her.”

The squad leader stood over the young woman, who was appearing far more distraught than was good for a soldier. He stood close to the Doctor. The only reason they weren’t toe-to-toe was because the young woman was on the floor in between them.

“Collatoral damage,” he said to the Doctor about Martha. There was a complete absence of emotion in his voice. He looked toward Donna. “At last you’ve still got her. I lost two men, I’d say you came out ahead.”

“Her name was Martha,” Donna snapped at the man. “And she’s not collateral damage, not for anyone.” 

The Doctor looked down to the woman on the ground. “Do you hear that, _daughter_? Martha is not collateral damage. Because of you she’s trapped back there.”

She winced at the disdainful way he called her his daughter. “I’m sorry,” she breathed out.

“Bit late for that, don’t you think?” he snarled. He then walked toward the rubble. “I’m going to find her.”

“You’re going nowhere,” the squad leader snapped with warning. “You make no sense, you two. No guns, no marks…” he huffed with disgust. “No fight in you. I’m taking you to General Cobb.” He pushed the Doctor by the shoulder to put him into a stumbled walk. He looked down at the woman. “Get up, soldier. Now. Move!”

She held herself with a fold of her arms across her belly when she did draw herself to a stand. Her head was low and her breathing shallow. She walked beside Donna without saying a word. She kept her arms around herself, her head low, and lightly twisted her attention left and right as they walked.

Donna watched the girl, surprised at how little this young woman actually resembled her father. She would have assumed that a clone of him would at least slightly bear a resemblance to him. This woman, well, she looked more like a younger version of Rose than she did the Doctor. In fact, the guarded manner by which she held herself, and her sudden silence reminded Donna of a very specific young child living with her mother in Chiswick. A child she now knew to be the daughter of the Doctor. That observation intrigued her. 

She’d met Mark as an adult in a previous adventure with her Time Lord. Could this woman be his daughter, and his real one – not one generated in a proger-whatever machine?

“What’s your name?” she asked gently. When the young woman only looked upward but didn’t speak, she gave her a smile. “I’m Donna.”

The woman lowered her head again, looking ahead on their path through her brows. She didn’t answer the question.

Donna pressed on. “Surely you have a name,” she said with a smile. “What is it?”

“The machine didn’t give her one,” the Doctor growled over his shoulder from ahead of them. “It gave her my people’s history and language…” His voice darkened. “And how to be a soldier. But it didn’t give her a name.” He slid his hands into his trouser pockets and lifted his head to look at the ceiling above them. His tongue was pressed against the back of his teeth as he surveyed their journey. “She’s a generated anomaly,” he said finally. “Nothing more than that.”

Donna clearly heard the gasp of hurt from the young woman. Her eyes flicked to her, and then flashed toward the Doctor. “Wow. Not what you’d call a natural parent, are you?”

He stopped in his tracks and lifted his head high as he turned around to face her. He removed one hand from his pocket and gestured toward the young woman. “They stole a tissue sample at gun point and processed it to create _her_.” He let his hand drop to his side. “It’s not what I call natural parenting.”

“Oh that’s rubbish,” Donna snapped. “My friend Nerys fathered twins with a turkey baster. Don’t bother her.”

He sniffed with a wince of distaste. “You can’t extrapolate a relationship from a biological accident.”

The young woman’s head shot up at that comment. She thrust her arms down either side of her and marched forward. “I was not an accident,” she growled as she stalked past him, deliberately knocking against him as she did. “Though being here obviously was.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

The young woman sat quietly on the small gurney inside the cell in which they’d all been thrown into. The last words she had spoken were the ones uttered in pain as they were led toward the camp. That was a good couple of hours ago now. She could feel Donna’s concern, and even her constant looks of worry toward her as the day progressed. Good old Auntie Donna, always watching out for her and making sure she was okay. She wondered if that glorious sassy redhead had worked it out; if she realised that she wasn’t just a generated anomaly or biological accident.

Right now, Donna wasn’t paying her too much attention. She was in discussion about their circumstance with the Doctor. They’d been in the cell now for a good half hour, and had fallen into two distinct groups: The Doctor and Donna, and herself, all alone and slowly falling into terror…

…Uncle Brax was going to kill her when he found out she’d ducked classes at the academy to take a trip with Uncle Jack’s Vortex Manipulator. She’d promised him after her last sneaky jaunt that she wouldn’t take off like that again. It was the promise she’d made to him to prevent him ratting her out to her Mum and Dad that she’d snuck off.

She groaned at the potential repercussion upon her return to Gallifrey. She leaned forward along her knees and covered her head with her arms. At her side, she felt the mattress dip. Judging by the soft petal scent of the person beside her, she guessed it was Donna.

“I’m in so much trouble,” she admitted in a voice muffled by her knees. 

“If you’re his kid,” Donna said with humour. “Then it should be a condition that’s par for the course.”

She pressed her elbows into her knees to prop herself up just a little. She still leaned down on her knees and shifted her forearms enough that she held her belly. Her eyes were on her father at the cell bars. “You know who I am,” she breathed out softly. “And I’m not a progenated biological accident like he thinks I am.”

“Alirra?” Donna asked gently. She rubbed at her shoulders in a comforting gesture.

Alirra nodded. “Didn’t know I would end up here,” she admitted. “But my Time Sense was tickling at my mind, and my father always says I shouldn’t ignore it when that happens.” She let out a breath. “I’d rather not end up in a part of his timeline where he hasn’t come back to me, mum and Mark yet. But I suppose it’s a loop that needs closing.”

“I wonder why?”

Alirra let out a breath. “If I didn’t materialise in that machine just at the right time, then I guess I’d have another sister out there somewhere in the universe.” She sighed. “He never mentioned this adventure to any of us before and I’ve never heard of other random adult sister, so I suppose I’ve always come here.”

“You need to tell him,” Donna urged her.

Alirra shook her head. “Frankly, Donna, after everything he’s said. He doesn’t deserve to know.”

“Maybe not,” Donna agreed. “But he certainly deserves to feel like shit for saying it all.”

They both looked up as the phone buzzed inside the Doctor’s pocket. He quickly fished it out and snapped it open, setting it to speaker so she could be heard by Donna. “Martha?”

“Doctor,” she relieved voice came from the other end.

There was excitement and relief in his voice. “Oh Martha. Thank Rassilon, you’re alive.”

“I’m so glad to hear your voice,” Martha half swooned. “Are you alright?”

He nodded, even though it couldn’t be seen. “Yes. I’m with Donna. We’re fine. What about you?”

Donna frowned, calling over from the gurney. “And Alirra. She’s fine too.”

The Doctor looked toward her. “Oh, you gave her a name, did you? Good. Good. That’ll make it easier.” He turned back away. “Yes, and Alirra. That’s the woman from the machine. The soldier.” He swallowed and huffed. “My daughter, except that she isn’t. She’s, she’s…” He shook himself. “Anyway. Where are you?”

“I’m in the Hath camp,” she answered. “I’m okay, but something seems to be going on. The Hath are all marching off to some place that’s just appeared on this map thing.”

The Doctor’s lips pursed. Yeah, that was his fault. “Oh, that was me,” he admitted. His breath came out hard. “If both armies are heading that way, there’s going to be a bloodbath.”

Her worried breath was heard against the phone. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just stay where you are,” he practically ordered her. ‘If you’re safe there, don’t move. Do you hear me?”

“But,” she argued. “I can help…”

The line abruptly disconnected. The Doctor called out to Martha a couple of times. He slapped at the phone, hitting it against his hand, and tried calling her again. Finally, he gave up with a huff. “She’s gone. Battery probably died.”

“As long as it was the battery,” Donna said without thought, and then winced as she heard the words come out of her mouth. “Right. Insensitive.”

The three of them snapped up their heads and looked out of the bars of their cell as loud movement began outside. They could hear the chanting of soldiers ready to fight. Both the Doctor and Alirra gave the same shudder.

The Doctor looked toward a guard outside the cell. He felt the approach of his daughter and tried to ignore that presence. “They’re getting ready to move out,” he growled. “We have to get past that guard.”

“I can deal with him,” Alirra offered.

“No. No, no no,” the Doctor said with a huff that almost sounded amused. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

He gestured toward the man with a jut of his chin. “You belong here with them.”

“Oh I don’t think so,” Donna snapped impatiently. “She belongs with us. With _you_. She’s your daughter.”

He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “No. She’s a soldier. She came out of that machine.”

“My God your daft,” Donna growled finally. She grabbed Alirra’s wrist and lifted it to press against the lapel of her father’s blazer. “She’s your daughter, Doctor. Not a progen-whatever from a machine.”

“Progeny,” he corrected her with a flick of his eyes.

“Yeah, whatever,” Donna snarled in reply. “This is your daughter,” she reconfirmed. “The one you had with Rose.” She heard him express a stunned whispered sound toward the negative and became more urgent. “Look at her, Doctor. Take a good look at her. Can’t you see her; Rose?”

The Doctor’s eyes widened with shock and heartbreak. Inside this young woman, he could indeed see his beloved Rose in her. He lifted a hand to stroke the pads of his fingers down her face, brushing lightly at her temple. Immediately his soul was alive with a familial warmth that could only come from a child born of a mother.

“M-my daughter,” he stammered out thickly. 

“Yes, Dad,” she answered brokenly. “It’s me. I – I know in this timeline you don’t know about me yet, but I am.”

“You were the one,” he breathed out almost reverently. “From Australia. Conceived in the TARDIS?”

A look of disgust crossed her face. “Oh. Rassilon. Gross. You’ve never told me _that_.” She motioned a retch and took a step backward. “Ugh. Bad enough I know you two had to do it in the first place to make me, but to do it in the TARDIS? And _admit_ it?”

“Don’t quite remember the actual circumstances behind your conception,” He admitted with a growing smile. “But I do recall your .. I mean the younger me saying that your mother and I had a successful mating during that adventure.”

Donna moaned and shudder herself. “Oh come on. Mating? Really, you call it that?: She rolled her tongue in a retch. “And yeah, I’m with Blondie here, no need for details, yeah?”

His smile was wide. “A daughter,” he cheered happily. “Do you hear that Donna? I have a daughter!” He lurched forward and pulled Alirra into his arms. There was a happy sound in the back of his throat as he held her tightly inside the circle of his arms. “I found you,” he said happily. “I found you, and now you can take me to your Mum…”

She wriggled out of his hold and shook her head. She backed off a few steps with her fingertips pressed against his chest. Her head shook slowly. “Can’t do that,” she said apologetically.

“Why not?”

“I just can’t,” she answered. She pulled her hair from her lip gloss and tucked it behind her ear in an almost sheepish gesture. “In my timeline, you’ve been back with us for …” she blew out a breath. “Wow, for a couple of centuries already.” She smiled and shifted her hands to draw down along his chest. “Still look like this, too. Though the suit’s long gone…”

“I see,” he said softly with a decent measure of disappointment in his voice. 

“You understand, right Dad?” she pleaded. “And I know where you are in your timeline, and you and Mum. You’ve both still got so much to do before you meet again.” She saw his disappointment and her hearts broke for him. “Trust me, Dad. Trust me when I say that the two of you waiting makes it all so worth it.”

“How can it not be worth it to show up a little early?” he replied with a sniff. “Get more time with all of you if I do.”

Alirra shook her head. “No, Dad. It’s the opposite, actually.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. you understand, right? Timelines and all.”

He lifted his hand to cup her cheek. There was the smallest smile in his face as he nodded. “I trust you,” he answered solemnly. “It’s the curse of the Time Lord,” he breathed out.

“It’s as much a blessing, Dad,” she assured him. “I promise you.” She held his hand at her cheek. “If it wasn’t, then Mum wouldn’t still be with you two centuries from now.”

There was both hope and awe in his eyes. “She’s what?”

“So stop looking,” she warned him. “When the time is right, you’ll be brought home to us, you won’t have to search.”

“I hope you’re right,” he breathed out. “Because, Rassilon, Alirra. I need my family. I need my wife.”

Alirra shrugged and pulled away from him. “Well, technically, Dad. She’s not your wife right now. Bad Wolf saw to that, which is why you couldn’t get close to her Australia.” She narrowed her eyes and pointed a teasing finger of accusation at him. “Yeah, I heard about it, I did. Tried to get all smoochy with her and nearly put her in a coma, didn’t you?”

His eyes pinched with remembrance to that day. “It wasn’t that bad.”

She nodded. “Yeah it was. Confused my Dad at the time, as is my understanding.” She shrugged. “I wasn’t born yet, so I’m only going with what I was told. But turns out, it was a simple explanation: You didn’t have the bond with her, whereas other you did.”

“And without possessing that bond,” he mused. “Trying to make a move on her tormented the active bond.” He scratched at his hair as his eyes widened to consider it. “Even though younger me had it, which is confusing…”

“Uncle Brax said that the Bad Wolf tore that bond right out of you when she separated you.” Her face wore a wince. “Said he’d never seen anything of the likes of it. Never heard of it happening before, or even since.” She shrugged. “But I reckon it stops becoming an issue when you two get back together, because you pretty much went straight back at it. Didn’t say a word, did ya? You just stormed into the room all purposeful and all, found her and just snogged Mum in a major way in front of an entire room of Time Lords.”

“Hold on,” he said with a lift of his hand. “Did you say an entire room of Time Lords?”

“And Ladies, I guess I should clarify.” She nodded. “Yep. Didn’t care at all. Just walked up and ostentatiously staked your claim on her in front of everyone.” She shrugged. “I would consider it a romantic gesture, you know, if it was anyone but you and Mum…”

“Yeah, yeah, I get that,” he said with a wave of his hand. “but a whole room of Time Lords? As in survivors of the war?” He frowned. “Or is the war still on, and…?”

“Yep,” she popped out with her eyes wide. “Might’ve said a bit too much there.” Her face fell. “Still at the academy, me. Haven’t gotten all the training and brainwashing yet to tell me to keep my flapping mouth shut.” She sighed with a slouch. “You always say that I need to finish talking about one or five sentences earlier than I do. Must’ve gotten your gob, I think.” She pursed her lips. “Or Nanna Jackie’s.” She looked at him with a wince. “Any chance of you forgetting any of this?”

He smiled with a shake in his head. In a second he’d stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. “I’m not going to forget this,” he vowed on a long breath. “Not a second of it. My precious daughter.”

Donna sniffed rather dramatically. She wiped at a tear that didn’t actually exist. “Oh, this is so beautiful.” She quickly fell to being serious. “And while it is a really pretty – and really confusing – scene. We do have to consider just how we’re going to get out of here. You know, before we all get caught up in a war and don’t make it out in one piece.”

“Good point,” the Doctor agreed with a slightly chagrinned tone of voice as he release his child and took a step back. “Escape first, catch up later.” He looked to the cage. “How to get out of here.”

Alirra winked and pulled a wisp of hair from her face. “Leave it to me.”

“No, no,” the Doctor said with a wave of his hand. “I’ve got it.”

Alirra shook her head and strode to the bars. She shook herself, straightened and smoothed her posture and looked toward the guard with a glint in her eyes and a smile on her lips. “Hey.”

“I’m not supposed to talk to you,” he said in reply. He did turn slightly and leaned against the bars. His eyes looked up and down from her eyes to her lips. “I’m on duty…”

She circled her finger on his shoulder. Her voice became breathy. “I know,” she breezed. “Guarding me. So, does that mean I’m dangerous,” she purred. She heard her father give a quiet warning by saying her name, but ignored him. “Or that I need protecting?”

The soldier turned fully to face her. There was an expression in his eyes that suggested lust. “Protect you from what?” he asked with a lick at his lip.

“Oh,” she purred out. I don’t know.” She winked. “Men like you?”

He shifted closer, and she slid her arm around his neck. She purred teasingly and then pulled him in for a dep, toe-curling kiss through the bars. She ignored the uncomfortable sound made by her father and, sensing her partner’s distraction, dropped her hand to pull his weapon from his holster. She snatched herself free and held up the gun, smirking that his lips were still pursed and he wore a dazed expression.

“Keep quiet and open the door,” she ordered darkly.

Behind her, Donna chuckled. She slapped the back of her hand against his chest. “Yeah. Reckon her plan of attack was more successful than anything you might’ve come up with.”

He grumbled deep inside his chest. “Not too sure I’m entirely thrilled by that method.”

“Only because you couldn’t pull it off like she did,” she said with a snicker. “Though I think I’d like to see you try it.”

~~ooooOOOOoooo~~

One thing that the Doctor had to admit about his little fireball daughter, was that she was an exciting companion to partner with on this adventure. She was so much like her mother, it was uncanny. Fearless and unwavering in the face of danger. She asked all of the right questions and had all of the right answers. Her energy was limitless, and remarkably contagious. Even when he felt the need to skid to a stop to take a breath, her palpable excitement kept him going. Even Donna, who would often stagger to a pause and ask for a moment, seemed to latch on to Alirra’s excitement and get drawn along with them. When they picked up Martha along the way, his brilliant former companion fell into stride easier than any of them. 

He was proud of them all, he had to admit. Pride for his companions for their compassion toward a young woman who had simply appeared out of nowhere, and one that he’d treated horrendously. He’d make up for that, of course. When this adventure was over, he’d invite his daughter on board for one, two, or even a handful of trips. Right now, she hadn’t explained just how she intended to return home. He’d have to take her there… best to make a few stops along the way. Take the long way home.

He smiled widely at the thought of it. Father and daughter, travelling together across time and space. It would be like his early days, when Susan was at his side. Susan. Wonderful, brilliant Susan.

Gee, he produced the most wonderful offspring, didn’t he? Okay, Susan wasn’t specifically from him, but he did have a part in her creation.

There was no wiping the smile from his face as they all walked onboard a spaceship. He walked with a twirl in his step as he admired all of the plants and life that surrounded them. Peaceful, and simply beautiful it was. “Oh. Yes,” he purred out. “Isn’t this brilliant?”

Donna walked up to a glowing globe that was seated upon a pedestal with a multitude of wires running into it. She smiled at Alirra as she stepped to her side and reached out a hand to touch it. “Is that the Source,” she asked curiously. “The one they spoke about?”

“It’s beautiful,” Alirra remarked softly, her voice full of awe.

The Doctor checked a control panel, Martha dutifully at his side. He nodded to answer the question, but didn’t actually say anything. His focus was on the control panel.

“What is it?” Martha asked the Doctor.

“Terraforming,” he answered with his own voice of curiosity. He scrolled through some data on a small monitor panel on the console. “”Looks like a third generation terraforming device.”

Donna sniffed. “So all this concrete and steel all day, now here. Why are we suddenly in Kew Gardens?”

“Because that’s what it does, he answered without looking up. “All this, only bigger.” He finally lifted his head to the abundant plant life around them. “Much bigger. It’s in a transit state. Producing all this must help keep it stable before they finally…”

His words cut off as an explosion of Soldiers stormed in from both sides of the room. There were Human soldiers on one side, Hath on the other. They looked ready to begin battle. The Doctor rushed in between the two forced. “Stop! Hold your fire!”

The squadron leader, the man who had thrown them all into the cell and bad basically made this entire adventure an unpleasant one with his incessant ordering and bossing people around stood his ground, levering the Doctor with a disgusted glare. “What is this; some kind of trap?”

The Doctor held up his hands. He looked between the two forces. His eyes were wide and his voice almost breathless. “You said you wanted this war over.”

“I want it won,” he corrected him.

“You can’t,” the Doctor stated firmly, his hands still held up either side of him. “You can’t win. No one can.” His eyes shifted to the squad leader. “You don’t even know why you’re here. Your whole history, it’s just Chinese Whispers, getting more distorted the more it’s passed on.” He gestured to the sphere with both hands. His eyes were still wide and his voice still controlled. “This is the Source. It’s what you’re fighting for. A device to rejuvenate a planets entire ecosystem. It’s nothing mystical. It’s from a laboratory, not from some creator.”

He lowered his hands and walked around, keeping his eyes on the man. “This is a bubble of gasses. A cocktail of stuff for accelerated evolution.” His hand lifted to count off and he lifted his face to the ceiling as tough in thought. “Methane, hydrogen, ammonia, amino acids, proteins, nucleic acids.” He looked back to him. It’s used to make barren planets habitable. look around you. It’s not for killing. It’s bringing life.” He grinned widely. If you allow it, it can lift you out of these dark tunnels and into the bright, bright sunlight. No more fighting. No more killing.”

He took the sphere in his hands and lifted it high over his head. “I’m the Doctor, and I declare this war over.” He grit his teeth and slammed his arm down, shattering the globe at his feet. It hissed with the release of gasses and energy. Everyone watched with awe as the gasses rose in a vast array of colours all shimmering and blinking. Slowly, yet loudly, each member of the armed parties began to lower their weapons. The Doctor smiled gratefully at the clicking sounds of the weapons dropping to the ground. He lifted his arm to thread it across the shoulder of his daughter as she stepped into his side.

Her voice was a breathy sound of awe. “What’s happening?”

“The gasses will escape,” he explained gently. “They’ll trigger the terraforming process.”

“What does that mean?”

He spoke with wonder and dropped his face to speak into her hair, thankful to have her at his side for something so amazing. “It means a whole new world.”

Alirra heard a click behind him, a sound that had her eyes widen in horror. She quickly rolled free of his hold, pushing her father out of the way. She called out in the negative as she stepped in between her father and the man holding the gun. No one had time to react before the trigger was pulled and the bullet hit its target. Alirra let out a sharp cry as she felt the heat of the bullet rip through her flesh and lodge inside her chest. She stumbled backward into the arms of her terrified father.

He spoke her name over and over again as he gently lowered to his knees and lay her on the ground. “Alirra, talk to me, please?”

She clutched at her chest and coughed a gargling sound that bubbled orange-crimson blood into her mouth. Martha fell to her knees at Alirra’s side, she removed the young woman’s hand from her chest to survey the damage. She could hear the hiss of air escaping a damaged lung. She could hear the rattle in her breathing.

“Is she going to be all right?” Donna asked worriedly.

Martha closed her eyes and shook her head.

Alirra shuddered in her father’s hold. She tried to laugh, tried to appear as though she wasn’t completely terrified. “A new world,” she managed with little more than a croak. “It’s beautiful.”

The Doctor looked into her eyes, his hold on her shaking. “Now you listen to me, Alirra,” he lectured her tenderly. “You need to hold on, you hear me?” He choked at the pain in her eyes. “I’ll get you back to the TARDIS, and I’ll fix you right up, yeah? You just hold on for me, darling. Hold on.”

“I don’t know that … that I can,” she said with a waver in her voice and a cough that brought up fresh blood. “But you and me, yeah… We’re brilliant.” Her eyes closed and she gave a shuddering breath. “In my hearts, papa.”

“No no,” he pleaded. He held her face into his chest, dropped his head onto the top of her head and rocked backward and forward. He drew in breath through an open mouth and let his tears fall. He looked helplessly toward Martha. “She can’t die,” he begged. “No.” He pulled Alirra’s head from his chest and cupped her face in his hand as he looked down at her. “You’re my daughter,” he chided her firmly. “You have two hearts inside your chest.” He looked up at Martha. “She’s like me. She’s made from me. If I just wait…”

Martha set her hand on his shoulder. “There’s no sign, Doctor,” she said sadly. There’s no regeneration. She’s like you, but maybe not enough.”

“No,” he choked out as he curled around his daughter and let the tears fall. “I just found her, I can’t lose her. She’s my daughter, my baby…”

Martha and Donna stood silent, both of them feeling out of depth with the Doctor’s clear despair. Martha had seen the Doctor distraught at the loss of his friend back on the Valiant. She’d seen that despair and anguish … but that didn’t compare to his destruction right now. He was curled around his child, sobbing unashamedly into her chest, begging the Gods to please take him instead.

Donna shifted to step forward to try and offer some form of comfort to her friend. She held out her hand, flexing and relaxing her fingers with indecision. As she moved, she found sudden pause as a familiar whine and wheeze started to fill the room. She immediately stepped backward, her hands balled into fists down at her sides as she tried to find the source of the sound. To the left of them, a blue Police Box shimmered in and out of reality. Donna looked on with wide eyes. “But the Doctor’s here, how is the TARDIS…?”

Martha’s lips pursed outward. She’d seen this before. Multiple travel capsules and a pair od Doctor’s in one timeline. She prayed to any deity watching over them that this was a Doctor who could help. She was not expecting the man who burst out of the doorway of the materialised ship. It was the Doctor, their Doctor, dressed not in a pinstriped suit, but in a crimson tunic and trousers combination covered with a lab coat that was such a deep yellow that it could have been gold.

This man was clearly older than the man who wept over his fallen daughter. His face bore smile lines and deep crinkles at his eye. His temples were graying and his hair had very little of the spiked spunk of his youth. It was still thick, wild, and heathy, but not teased to within an inch of its life anymore.

He gave both Donna and Martha a nod as he dropped down onto his knees beside his daughter, opposite to his younger self. He put his hand on his younger self’s shoulder. “It’s okay Doctor,” he said with the gentle firmness of a seasoned medic. “Give her to me.”

He looked up with sodden eyes to his elder self. There was very little that could take his sorrow away for the loss of the life that was held in his arms. “I’m sorry,” he sobbed out. “I’m so sorry. She … she was protecting me. Why’d she have to do that, Doctor? Why?”

“Because she’s more like us than she should be,” he said with a slight level of annoyance in his voice. “Add to that just how much like her mother she is, and our little girl is the single most jeopardy friendly creature in the entire universe.” He slid his hand into his coat pocket and retrieved a large syringe filled with a shimmering, golden substance.

“What’s that?” the Doctor asked with a pinch in his brow.

“Give her to me,” the older Doctor demanded. “Alirra is still completing her studies at the academy. She hasn’t yet gotten her regeneration package.” He held the syringe up and gave it a very small pump to get rid of air bubbles. “This is synthetic Lindos. Something I created when the kids started taking off and sneaking out. Enough to heal her, but not enough to regenerate.” He tugged his daughter’s body from his younger self, who finally released her. “Heaven’s help us all if I return her to her mother with a different face.” His eyes flashed. “She didn’t handle it at all well when Mark came home an old Scotsman rather than the uncoordinated giraffe she gave birth to.”

He plunged the needle into the bullet wound with little to no tenderness at all. There was a grit in his teeth as he depressed the plunger completely. He tossed the empty syringe behind him and cupped his daughter’s face.

“Come on, Aly,” he urged gently as he stroked the apples of her cheeks with his thumbs. “Come on, darling. Wake up. You can do it.”

The younger Doctor leaned forward. “What if it wasn’t enough? Do you have more?”

“It’s enough,” he growled in reply. “I don’t like to have too much of that on hand. No telling what’ll happen if it gets into the wrong hands. Just enough,” he stated as he used the corner of his lab coat to wipe at Alirra’s mouth. “No more than just enough.”

His eyes lit up as Alirra suddenly gasped and her eyes flashed open. She panted a few deep breaths, her eyes wild and unfocused. “Darling,” the Doctor said tenderly. “You’re okay.”

She blinked rapidly a few times to get focused, and immediately relaxed when she saw her father’s face above her. There was no doubt in her mind that it was the father she had at home on Gallifrey, not the youngster who she’d just adventured with. “Papa,” she said with relief. 

“Right here, darling,” he cooed. He broke into a smile when she looked toward the TARDIS. “No. Your mother isn’t here. I left from the hospital.”

“She’s going to be so mad.”

“Yep,” he said with a pop of his p. “And that … I can’t help you with.” He chuckled. “I can safe you from death, but you’re on your own with the wrath of your mother, I’m afraid.”

She slumped and rolled her head toward the other man. Her expression lengthened to apology at the tear stained face of him. “Oh dad. I’m so sorry.” She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a hug. “I just wanted you safe, that’s all.”

“My safety shouldn’t come at the cost of yours,” he whispered against her cheek. “Never.”

The older Doctor looked at a watch on his wrist as he drew himself to a stand. He held out his hand toward his daughter. “Right. Now that we’ve got all that sorted out, we should be off.” His nose screwed up with distaste. “The less I’m in the presence of myself, the better.” He looked down with distaste. “Especially one who let’s our eldest daughter get herself killed.”

“Oh don’t you act all innocent,” the younger Doctor snapped. “The fact that you’re here right now means that you found yourself in this exact predicament when you were me.”

“That’s right,” he warned. “So you best remember the temporal coordinates so that you can return here and make up for being a careless sod and save her life.” He waited for the Doctor to press his lips together tightly in acceptance to that order. “Good.” His face lit up as he looked toward his companions. He opened his arms to them both, his grin as wild and manic as it was in his youth. “Martha Jones! Donna Noble! Oh look at the two of you!”

“Look at you,” Donna sassed back with a look up and down when Martha stepped in for a hug. “Turns out you _can_ age and all.” She tapped at her temples. “Bout time for a colour correction, yeah?”

He barked out a laugh. “Well, I had to get to two hundred and twenty in this body to finally go grey.” He preened a little with an adjustment of his lab coat. “And besides. I think it makes me look quite distinguished, don’t you?” He took her in his arms and purred happily. “It’s good to see you again.” He kissed the top of her head and stepped backward. He slipped his arm over Alirra’s shoulder. “Well we best be off. Promised the wife I’d be home at a reasonable hour, and with the TARDIS still having her tetchy moments, the sooner I can leave the better chance I have of landing on time.”

Alirra skipped forward to give the younger version of her father a hug. She groaned out happily. “Mmmm. Great to adventure with you, Dad.” She kissed his cheek. “In my hearts, yeah?”

He nodded. “And you’re in mine. Errr. Say hi to your Mum for me.”

The elder Doctor looked around at the silently staring men surrounding them. “Well. I’m glad I’m not sticking around to clean up this mess. So good luck to you, Doctor. Get them sorted, and then get your companions back home for a break. They need it.” He took Alirra’s hand and led them toward the TARDIS.

“Doctor,” the younger man called.

He turned. “Yes?”

“How long?” he asked.

He looked down to his daughter and then back to his younger self, remembering the lift in spirit that would come with his answer. “Not long now, Doctor. Not long at all.” He paused. “Just. Just stop looking, okay? When the timelines align properly, you’re brought home.” He smirked. “Enjoy the single life while you can .. it gets quite hectic in a few short months time for you.” He laughed when his daughter slapped him on the belly with the back of his hand and chided him.

“A few months?” he queried.

“Just a few,” he confirmed. His eyes lifted and he let out a breath. “Oh, and by the way. Pretty soon, you’ll end up in a library. You’re going to meet someone who…” He pursed his lips into a wince of thought as to how to properly describe her. “She’s going to give you back something you’ve lost. Something precious. Remember to trust your instinct as a Time Lord when you’re faced with her.”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” he said with a pinch in his brow. “Who is she?”

He chuckled as he stepped onto the TARDIS, with his daughter safely at his side. He turned back with a grin before he closed the doors and sped off back home. “Spoilers.”


	68. Refugees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose gets busy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short chapter today. Got really busy and ran out of time... Couldn't get to the Library like I wanted to...
> 
> Tomorrow, maybe. Fingers crossed. :)
> 
> Rose heavy, this one. Not all that interesting, really. Just detailing what's happening since she agreed to help out in the war effort.

~~oooOOOOooo~~

When Romana had originally asked that Rose’s home become an out-post of sorts to assist in the war efforts on Gallifrey, Rose Tyler didn’t quite imagine the magnitude of it. Yes, she anticipated the materialisation of a handful of capsules that would be capable of supporting refugees and injured soldiers. She imagined perhaps a rather generous number of peoples that’s she’d offer support to, perhaps in the low hundreds …

…Well, if she was to be honest, she didn’t quite anticipate any more than about fifty to one hundred people. That number seemed fairly reasonable in her admittedly ignorant mind. She’d not grown up during wartime of any nature that impacted her daily life in any way at all. Oh, she’d learned about the major wars back at school. But reading texts and stories, and having to actually experience it for herself? Vastly different beasts.

Imagine her surprise, then, when she walked into her home after doing the school and daycare run, and found her modest little house practically overrun with people. She stood in her doorway, with two brown paper shopping bags propped up on each side of her hips laden with a few vegetables and packages of meat, and just watched with a level of panic on her face.

“Oh God,” she breathed to herself as she used her butt to close her front door. “I’m so not prepared for this.”

A young woman who looked to be close to her in age made a quick stride toward her. She was pretty, with brown hair held up in a messy bun. Her clothing didn’t indicate her as being a soldier, a guard, or even a resident of Arcadia and the Capitol. She wore a soft blue cotton dress that was embroidered in the ways of the Marketplace artisans, with images of flutterwings that trailed up from the lower hem of the skirt toward her hips. Over her shoulders she draped a light tan coloured crochet shawl. It was pulled tightly, which let Rose know that this young lady was in no way ready for the chill of a London day.

Rose’s eyes lifted in time with the woman’s approach. “Ehm. Hello?”

She held out her hands to take one of the bags from her. “You must be the Lady Rose,” she breezed out with fluster in her breath. “Please let me help you with that.”

Rose shifted a hip to allow her to take a bag. “I’m Rose,” she said with a smile. “But I’m no lady.” She kicked off her shoes without being too careful as to where they landed. “And who might you be?”

“Her Lady President says that we are to refer to you as Lady Rose,” she said with a smile as she jostled the heavy bag in front of her. “Out of respect to your mate and his standing in Council.”

That made Rose chuckle. With a shrug she walked along the hallway toward the kitchen. The Woman followed a step behind Rose. “You mean as the renegade they all love to hate?”

She seemed confused by that. “No, Ma’am. His Lord Doctor is the distinguished commanding officer of one of Gallifrey’s elite battle forces.” 

Rose set her bag on the counter and found herself having a slight chuckle at that image. “Distinguished? Are we talking about the same Time Lord?”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

Rose shook her head with a smile. “Never mind. Just that in my experience The Doctor usually does all he can to remain _un_ distinguished…” She thought about that for a second. “Well. Unless it serves a purpose, of course, then he’s pretty good at being that and all.” She looked to the woman. “So, anyway. You never said. What’s your name?”

“Oh,” she said with a sheepish smile. “I’m Carein.”

“ _Lady_ Carein,” Rose corrected with a wink.

“Oh no,” she answered breathlessly. “I’m not part of the Time Lord Society. I’m not a lady, just your average Gallifreyan maiden, I suppose you could say.”

“Ahhhh,” Rose breathed out through an open mouth. “I see.”

“I’ve been assigned to you as your assistant during this crisis,” she added with a smile. 

“Oh,” Rose said with a smile. “I don’t need an assistant.” She blew a puff of air into her cheeks and exhaled that breath through pursed lips. “I mean, okay, this is a little bit more than I expected to handle, but I’m sure I can get through it okay.”

Carein’sr eyes widened as she looked around at the multitude of people already milling around her kitchen and the backyard of the home. “Well. This is really only the beginning…”

Rose’s eyes flashed wide. “I’m sorry, what?”

Carein offered her a friendly, yet surprised look. “This is only the first phase of moving our citizens from the field of battle and into safety. Right now, the Resistance forces have only managed to move a small section of peoples from the Southern Mountains. There are more refugees to follow.”

Rose actually whimpered a little. She dropped her head onto the countertop and curled her arms around her head. “Oh Hell. What did I sign up for?” She huffed. “I’m in so far over my head.”

“Well,” Carein sang. “That’s what you have me for. There are quite a few of us ladies who have been tasked with assisting you with this role.” Her brows pinched. “It’s far too much for you to have to handle alone. And, if I’m being honest, far too much for even the group who have been pulled together to handle.” Her mouth broke out into a smile. “But those who are in our hearts are out in the field fighting a far greater battle that we face…”

“That’s very true,” Rose admitted with a sigh. She straightened up to a stand and looked at the now very meagre-looking supplies sitting on her countertop. “I’m going to need way more food than this.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Days moved very quickly into weeks at the Earth-based Lungbarrow residence – a name coined by Braxiatel one evening after a few glasses of magnolia wine during a Sepulchasm tournament between resistance members. Weeks could easily have shifted into months without notice, such was the bustling nature of the home.

Carein had not been in error when she’d mentioned that there would be new arrivals. They numbered into the thousands within days, with new arrivals materialising daily via capsule transport. Each new arrival was processed by Carein and her team and assigned living quarters within one of the six capsules parked in Rose’s backyard. Each capsule resembled a large-trunked tree of with limbs and foliage that stretched up high into the skies above her home to blanket the yard completely from detection from above. This took away much of the daytime sun, but with the low humming warmth produced by the capsules, they weren’t lacking for warmth at all.

Her grass didn’t survive much past two days. With the foot traffic and lack of sunlight, her thick healthy grass had been reduced to a muddy, trampled mess. Mud that was routinely tracked into her kitchen as people moved between the capsules outside, the materialisation pad near the back door, and the pair of capsules hidden within her home.

Despite the huge number of people, there really was very little intrusion at all into her own living quarters with her children and the wolves. Rose could easily have assumed there was some form of anti-Gallifreyan forcefield between her kitchen and the hallway into the living room. Not a single solitary soul ventured any further into her home than the kitchen. When she needed to take a breather from it all, Rose knew that she could walk into her living room, collapse onto the couch, and not have a single person interrupt her…

…Except for Braxiatel and Romana, of course. But she was really seeing very little of either of them of late. They were, of course, at the house as frequently as they had always been, but in between meeting with the refugees, injured soldiers, and group sessions with senior resistance members, they had little time for friendly catch-ups with her. And she missed them both … desperately ... as did the children. Well, not that Mark noticed all that much. The second he came home from school or woke up in the morning he was outside to play with the other children. Alirra, however, she missed listening to the beating of her uncle’s hearts to get her to sleep every evening. Now she had those moments reduced to only two of three nights a week, and she had to give him credit, when he did settle down with his niece on the lounge, he was very attentive to her. So much so that on many of those evenings, Rose would have to convince and even bribe him to hand over the child so she could be put into bed.

Every day she woke up and saw the tired and upset masses arriving from Gallifrey, Rose felt her heart break just that little bit more. She’d heard about the Time War, and of the devastation that it wreaked across the universe from the Doctor. But she could never fully comprehend just how devasting that truly was to the peoples caught up in the fight.

One thing that was made perfectly clear to her was that social class and status meant absolutely nothing when one was escaping war. Sad, weary women arrived with their children stumbling and crying, streaked with mud and tears. Distraught and terrified men who had lost their entire lives, their possessions and their livelihoods taken by the ravages of war, swiftly became angry and bitter once sanctuary was found. Refugees from some of the richest houses arrived in the same capsules as those from the poorest homes. Rich rubbed shoulders with the poor, but it was impossible to tell who was who as each capsule arrived. There was no sense of entitlement in any of them, just gratitude and relief in being sheltered from it all.

Wounded soldiers arrived by the hour, and the heat of regeneration washed over them all so frequently that Rose’s home had a permanent acrid scent that she felt would never leave these walls. With each wave of heat, Rose would lift her eyes to the sky and say a prayer for the man who disappeared within the fires of regeneration. Whichever of the ladies was at her side during such moments, would offer the same prayers themselves.

Her days were exhausting, but Rose tried not to succumb to it. She did what she needed to do because these people needed her to. Their loved ones were fighting for the protection of the entire universe … the one _she_ loved was fighting. This was the least she could do.

That was what she told herself every morning as she looked in the bathroom mirror and tried to ignore the dark circles that stained the underneath of her eyes. She stopped stepping on the scales a month ago. The looseness of her clothing told her well enough that she was losing weight.

It was no wonder at all that she was receiving hourly deliveries of food and snacks from the mess capsule outside. Gallifreyan grandmothers were as bad as those on Earth, she surmised. Too many times she was handed food and told that she needed to eat up and put on some weight.

“You’ll need that energy when your mate returns, child,” teased one of them; a crinkle-faced elderly woman with what had to be the cheekiest smile she’d ever seen. “Get a man home from battle, and he comes home full of heat and fire. You better make sure you’re ready for that – the very best kind of mating, let me tell you.”

She was a elder from the outer lands of Gallifrey. She’d never seen the inside of the Capitol and made sure that everyone around her knew that she was quite proud of that fact. She had birthed seventeen children in her long life, and to date had 50 grandchildren and 35 great grandchildren. She knew about mating, and she regaled all the red-faced and embarrassed Time Lords and academy youngsters about how they should all give it a shot – maybe it’ll take their heads out of their arses.

Rose always wore a smile when the old lass sat herself on a lawn chair with her mug of tea in hand to give everyone around her a right talking to. The youngsters loved her, and for much of the day, she had a semi-circle full of children all in rapture toward whatever tale she chose to spin. Most often, her son was part of that group.

Rose watched her with a smile as she prepared a tea for herself. It was still early and most of the refugees were either still sleeping or taking breakfast inside the mess capsule. The elder sat alone in her chosen rickety old chair and lifted her head to the single, solitary ray of sunshine that was able to break through the canopy of leaves above their heads.

“I do hope you are taking more than just tea, child,” she said without looking toward her. For a moment, Rose wondered if she was talking about her. “And yes, little one, I’m talking to you.”

Rose looked over toward her. The elder was gazing upon her with warm eyes. With a wink in her eye, Rose held up two sliced of bread and popped them into the toaster. “I am ma’am,” she answered back.

The elder turned her face back into the sunshine. “You may ma’am me when you actually eat it, dear child. Simply putting them in that contraption is not quite good enough.”

“You sound like me childing my own children when they won’t eat their vegetables.”

“And you’ll sound like me when you’re my age, dear.” She grinned, her eyes still closed underneath the sunlight. “I’m two thousand years old. Seen a lot, I have.” She looked back to Rose. “ As have you, dear.”

“Not as much as you,” she admitted with a smile.

“We’ve seen different things,” she replied with a sigh and a smile. “You’ve seen the Universe, I’ve seen the Southern Mountains. You’ve got your own tales to tell.”

“Nah,” she drawled as the toast popped and she snatched it from the toaster. She heaped a generous amount of strawberry jam on both slices and then walked outside to properly converse with the woman. “Would you like a slice?” she offered, extending her arm to offer the plate.

“As I’ve told you, dear,” the elder said with a chuckle. “You need to keep your energy for when your mate returns to you.”

Rose took a bite of her toast and chewed thoughtfully a moment. “Not just a blanket statement you’re giving to all the pretty girls, then,” she said after a swallow.

The elder chuckled. “Oh, child. Indeed all of them will need to store up some reserves if they have a mate like yours. We’d have a tot-boom when this is all over, believe you me.” She looked to her. “But alas, not all of them are quite like yours. He’s a little special, isn’t he?”

Rose’s brows lifted and she chose to take another bite of her toast so that she wouldn’t have to answer that question.

“Oh, don’t go quiet on me now.” She chuckled. “I can read you as easily as if I could see into your mind. Mating is a big part of what you miss about him, isn’t it?”

“With all due respect,” Rose managed with a laugh. “I don’t want to talk about that with you. It’s very inappropriate.”

She waved a hand at her. “Seen it all, dear. Heard it all. Done it all.” She smirked. ‘When you get to my age, you let propriety fall by the wayside. I have to. If I am to continue to live, I need to do so vicariously through you young ones.” Her grin stretched wide. “And who better to experience that kind of life than through the mate of His Lord Doctor.” She shuddered happily. “Quite the feisty little fellow that one. Has been getting into mischief since he was loomed. We played as children in the magnolia orchards, he and I. Although he wasn’t the Doctor back then.”

“Thete?” Rose offered.

“Oh by the stars no.” she said with a laugh. “That was his name at the Academy.” She looked to her with a glint in her eye. “You know his name. It was given to you, you now possess it, and therefore it is not a name I am permitted to say.” She covered Rose’s hand with hers. “He never believed he would find a love like that of his parents. It pleases me that he found it…” He lip turned up cheekily and her brows wiggled. “And that he embraced that wonderful Human half of him to engage in what it is that you Humans love to engage in.”

Rose moaned as a laugh into her hand. “Oh God.”

“No, dear,” she corrected her. “He’s just the Doctor.”

A whining sound broke through reality, haunting the alcove with its call. Rose shoved the rest of her toast into her mouth and washed it down noisily with a big mouthful of tea. “Looks like we have incoming,” she managed in a bit of a strangled tone of voice. “That’s the field medical capsule, I’d better go warn the medical team.”

“Yes, dear,” she excused her with a nod of her head. “You do what needs to be done. I’ll keep an eye out here for you.”

Rose ran into the kitchen, twirling in the doorway to dodge Soliarn, who was on his way out to greet the capsule. She held her mug and her plate high and practically dumped them on the counter. She rushed to the medical capsule that sat beside her dining room table. She clutched the handle of the capsule with her fingers, and paused to take a quick look at the arriving injured. She he held the door open as wounded soldiers on hovering gurneys moved by her, watching each one closely, wondering if at any time her husband might be one among the injured.

There were more and more arriving each day, more incoming than those being sent back out to fight.

There was a hot wash of regeneration energy, and Rose covered her mouth with her hand to hide a gag at the taste and odour of it. With a sad sigh she lifted her head to the ceiling and recited a short prayer for the man.

“At some point,” she whispered to herself. “Someone has to say _no more_ and end this. It can’t continue.”

~~oooOOOooo~~


	69. The Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donna and the Doctor in the Library

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Made an oops, had to delete and report because I missed the whole first part of the chapter**
> 
> Didn't get too much time today, so only worked a half chapter. 
> 
> Although much of the dialogue seems familiar there are actually several changes. From subsequent chapters, though, not too much will feel too familiar, as I will play and poke and change it all around. My laptop is running out of juice right now, and grabbing the cable means waking up my teenager ... that is more dangerous an endeavour than facing the Vasta Nerada... So that means I must pause right now .... I'll try to get a new chappy up later today if I dare suit up and walk into Neverland. Why did I loan him my cable last night?
> 
> Anyway... The changes here are subtle, but there are changes.... For the dialogue you recognise (more than I'd like to admit to, actually), credit goes to Stephen Moffat.
> 
> I hope that you enjoy this chapter

~~oooOOOooo~~

An adventure with the one and only Agatha Christie, and the Doctor had a hunger. Not a hunger food food, or even really for more adventure. No. He was ready to grab a few books, settle the TARDIS in the vortex for a moment, while he sat in his – quite frankly – magnificent library, and read.

Thinking about it. He hadn’t done that in a while, a very _long_ while. There once was a time where he would sit in a comfortable arm chair in his TARDIS with a strong cup of tea and a book in his hand. He would just sit down for a minute or two or three thousand, and just … read. Since returning from the war, however, all he’d wanted to do was run. Run and forget about everything he’d had to endure over those few centuries of warfare…

…and then the destruction of his planet. His home. 

Sigh. Gone now. No sense in dwelling on it.

So with that all in mind, and his sudden burning need to find a few new tomes to read, the Doctor landed he and his companion in the foyer of the largest library in the entire universe. Oh, he couldn’t’ wait to browse the shelves and find something – anything – that could keep his butt in a chair for longer than three seconds.

“Books!” he cheered as he opened the TARDIS doors and stepped into the foyer. “People never stop loving books.” He didn’t take a look around him, so he didn’t immediately notice that the place was awfully void of other people. He was too eager to regale Donna with his brilliance, and to hopefully have her as excited as he was to be here. 

“Fifty first century,” he cheered. “By now you’ve got holovids, direct to brain downloads, fiction mist.” He drew in a deep breath through his nose. “But you need the smell, Donna. The smell of books.” He looked at her with eagerness in his eyes. “Take a deep breath. Smell the knowledge and the wonder..”

She shook her head as she stepped out of the TARDIS and took a cursory look around. “Never was one to get high on the smell of old books.” She blinked slowly and looked back to him. “So what is this place?”

“The Library,” he answered with a wide toothy grin. “So big it doesn’t even have a name. Just a great, big THE.”

“Bit like you with the great big THE,” she mused quietly to herself. As she took a look around. She breathed out with awe and a light pinch in her brow. “It’s awfully big. An entire Mall.”

“It’s a world,” he corrected with a grin. “Literally, a world. The whole core of the planet is the index computer, the biggest hard drive ever.” He opened his arms wide. “And up here, every book ever written. While continents of Jeffrey Archer, Charles Dickens.” He winked at her, dipping his mouth down toward her ear as he passed her. “Agatha Christie.” 

“Ahhhh,” she hummed out. “Of course.”

He grinned yet wider and led her toward a balcony.. “Brand new editions, ‘specially printed.”

Together they looked over the balcony. The Doctor grasped onto the balcony edge for a moment, and then rested his forearms on the railing to lean over for a look.

“We’re near the equator,” he lectured gently. “So this must be biographies.” His voice became breathy. “I love biographies.”

“Yeah,” she scoffed. “Very you. Always a death at the end.”

His smile fell at that. While she obviously meant that comment in a friendly and maybe even a joking manner, it was a little too true, too close to home. He pressed his lips together with his usual petulance in the face of offence and just cleared his throat. He could have joked it off with a flippant remark about how death gives a person size, and how without death life would be just a comedy, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. All he managed to respond with was a shrug and a wetly spoken, “yeah.” Donna wasn’t being deliberately thoughtless.

His eyes flicked to her as she grabbed a book from a table. With a shake in his head and a fast flick of his wrist, he snatched it form her. “Ah. No. You can’t read that. Not yet.”

Annoyed that he’d snatched the book, but also curious as to what he was on about, she creased up her nose. “What?”

He held the book to himself. “These books are from your future. Volumes ahead of what is already released in your time. You read these, and you’ll be several steps ahead. Miss the good bits, and spoil all of the surprises.” His eyes narrowed playfully. “Or are you the type that like peeking at the end.”

She rolled her eyes. “You say that like travelling with you isn’t just one big spoiler.”

He put the book down on the table. “I try to keep you away from major plot developments.” He scratched at his sideburn in a somewhat guilty, sheepish manner. “Which, to be honest, I seem to be very bad at.”

“You’re telling me.”

He finally took note of the absence of people milling about and straightened up. His hands slipped into his pockets and he angled his head to one side. “This is the biggest library in the universe. It should be buzzing with activity. So where is everyone? It’s silent.”

“Silence and libraries to tend to go hand in hand,” Donna retorted with a shrug. “Wonder where the old girl with her fifties specs is. Surprised not to have heard a _shhhh_.” She looked down over the balcony with rising realisation about the utter silence surrounding them. “You’re right,” she admitted. “Seems oddly quiet even for a library.”

“Not just the library. The planet,” he mused more to himself than her. “The entire planet.”

“Maybe it’s a Sunday?” a terrible explanation, she knew, but it was worth mentioning.

He shook his head. “No. I never land on Sundays. Sundays are boring.”

“You’re lucky if you land on any day you want to,” she corrected him. “Why do you think you could manage to be so specific that you’d miss a Sunday?”

“Because the TARDIS knows better.” He pursed his lips. “It’s really too quiet here.”

“Well maybe everyone’s just really, really, quiet?”

He shook his head. “Maybe. But even if they were, there’d still be people roaming about.”

Donna turned to him with that comment. There was a suspicious tic in one eye. “Right, Spaceman. Spill,”

“Spill what?” he asked innocently.

“Why we’re really here,” she charged with narrowing of her eyes.

“To pick up a book or two,” he said with a purse in his lips that suggested he wasn’t being exactly front up with his answer. “Get in some R&R before our next trip.”

“No,” she accused softly. “There’s more to it than that. It’s not like you to drop in to a place as quiet as a library.”

“Used to do it all the time,” he said with a shrug. He lifted his sonic screwdriver and let it buzz loudly in the air in front of him. “Now that’s interesting.”

“What is?”

“I’m scanning for life forms,” he answered her. “But I’m not picking up anything.” He hit his sonic with his palm and held it out again, wondering if it just needed a quick recalibration. 

“What are you scanning for?”

“I’m scanning for your basic humanoids. You know, your book average book readers, few limbs and a face, apart from us.” He frowned. “But I get nothing. Zippo. Nada.” He slipped on his glasses and walked toward a computer. With a low stoop in his shoulders because of a low computer desk, he tapped in a few criteria. “If I use this and widen the search parameters to scan for any kind of life.”

He stopped and took a short step backward. His brows knitted together as he slid his hands into his pockets. The screen gave him nothing but a blinking error message: Error 1,000,000,000,000 lifeform number capped at maximum speed.

“A trillion,” he mused. “And it just gives up after that. A trillion…”

Donna looked over his shoulder at the error message, and then back to the library byond their balcony. “But there nothing here. There’s no one. How can it pick up a trillion life forms in here? Where are they hiding?”

“Well, that’s the question, isn’t it?” he agreed quietly. “The scanner picks up a trillion life forms, and yet there’s silence in the library.”

‘Just how much did you relax the scan criteria, Doctor?” she ventured. “Could be picking up all sorts of microscopic life. We’re in a library, plenty of dust mites here.”

“Maybe,” he half whispered.

“Well what else can it be?” she huffed out. “Not like it’s picking up the books, you know. Books aren’t alive.” A worried look crossed her face. “Then again, this is you. Are they?”

The two of them reached for a book, their movements slow. Behind them a voice piped up, which made both of them jump with startlement.

“Welcome.”

Donna held at her chest with one hand and gestured to a droid that had appeared to the Doctor’s left. “That. That came from there.”

He gulped. “Yeah.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Well. This little adventure was turning out to be less of a quiet trip to the library and more of a jaunt into a typical Doctor disaster. Donna hadn’t been entirely comfortable in the office with the droid that had a rather eerie human face attached to it. Well, not entirely comfortable wasn’t exactly a correct descriptor: She was downright creeped out by it…

…Almost as much as she was by the somewhat ominous warning about shadows. Way to take her back to being a child who was scared of the dark and hid herself underneath thick folds of heavy blankets to try and get herself to sleep at night. Night lights did her no good, they only made more contorted shadowy shapes across her floor.

The Doctor’s lack of surprise to them being thrust into yet another creepy adventure had sparked her curiosity. She eyeballed him as they wandered the abandoned corridors.

“So,” she sang out with accusation. “We weren’t just in the neighbourhood, then?”

He scratched at his sideburn. “Yeah, I kind of, sort of lied a bit.” He held out his billfold that displayed a message. “I got a message on the psychic paper.”

Donna squinted her eyes as she read the message, which read: “ _The library. Come as soon as you can_.” It finished with an X mark.

“What do you think?” he asked. “Cry for help?”

She lifted her eyes to his. “Cry for help with a kiss?”

He cleared his throat and looked away with a small measure of guilt. “Oh. I think we’ve all done that.”

“No,” she sang out with a laugh. “At least I haven’t.” She then smirked and nudged him with her shoulder. “Finish all of your text messages with a kiss, do you?”

“Can’t quite ever recall doing so,” he said quietly. “Although I might have. Who knows? Long life and all, may have done and just can’t remember.” He slipped the billfold back into his pocket after giving it another last look. “Wonder who it’s from.”

“Rose?” she ventured somewhat hopefully.

“No,’ he answered shortly. “I. I don’t think so at any rate. How would she even get here?”

“You’re hoping though…?”

“I can’t imagine anyone else thinking they’re close enough to me to kiss me at any rate.” 

“Can’t imagine anyone actually wanting to kiss you,” she shot back.

He grumbled and continued along his line of thought as though her comment didn’t exist. “Even via psychic message.” His head shot up to a clanking whoomphing sound that seemed to move swiftly toward them from behind. His eyes widened to see lights loudly click off in a quick linear pattern that headed directly toward them. He said her name with warning.

“What’s happening?” she yelled worriedly.

“Run!” he yelped with a snatch of her hand to drag her into a run behind him. 

They made it to a doorway. The Doctor tugged on it, growling when it wouldn’t budge. “Ooooh. Come on!”

“What? Is it locked?”

“Jammed,” he growled. “The wood’s warped.”

“Well then sonic it,” she ordered him with panic in her voice. She pointed to his pocket. “Use the – the blue _thingie_.”

“I can’t,” he growled through his teeth. It’s wood.”

“What?” she barked incredulously. “It doesn’t do wood? All that technology, and you get caught up by _wood_?”

He gave her a short look of warning, which quickly shifted to an expression of hope. “Hang on, hang on. I can vibrate the molecules, fry the bindings.” He nodded to himself. “I can shatterline the interface.”

Donna groaned out impatiently. “Oh get out of the way.” She shoved past him and let out a long grunt as she kicked hard at the door. It flew open. She gave him a victorious and rather smug smirk. “Time Lord 0, Human 1.”

“I’m pretty sure my count is much higher than that.”

“Not today, it’s not.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

They stood side by side in the rotunda, after yet another freaky encounter through yet another doorway. This time it was a creepy little girl and a talking moon. Okay, creepy was probably a little too harsh, as she was really quite adorable and cute. But the encounter itself tickled at Donna’s creepy-bone and made her far less adoring toward the child as she was quite frightened by her.

Once again warnings, ominous and dark. And once again, Donna was thinking that she’d not ever want to step foot in a library ever again when this was over. Funny how travelling with the Doctor could do that to her.

She looked to the man, and noted the pinch in his eye and the dimple in his cheek that gave her warning as to his discomfort toward what may be on approach. He’d not really reacted all that much when they were told that there were others on approach. Others. What could that be? With _him_ , it could mean anything.

“So,” she breathed out curiously more to herself than to anyone else. “Others. What’s is mean: others?” 

She approached a droid, node, robot, whatever it was, and made sure to put herself within its line of sight. “Excuse me. What does it mean: others?”

The Doctor looked up at her. There was tiredness in his voice. “That’s basically an arcade machine,” he said flatly. “It can’t help you.”

She still remained in front of the droid, but turned her face to look at him. “So why’s it got a face?”

The droid spoke, which brought Donna’s attention straight back to it. “This flesh aspect was donated by Mark Champers on the occasion of his death.”

A look of disgust crossed her face. “You mean this is a real face?”

“It has been actualised individually for you from the many facial aspects saved to our extensive flesh banks. Please enjoy.”

She looked at the Doctor with horror written across her face. “It chose me a dead face it thought I’d like?” She pointed at it. “This is a read dead person’s face. A face. An actual dead person’s face.” She swallowed and looked back at it with renewed horror. “That’s some Silence of the Lambs stuff right there.” She grumbled underneath her breath. “It pours the lotion on its skin….”

He shrugged. “It’s the fifty-first century, Donna. That’s basically like donating a park bench.”

“It’s basically very disgusting, you mean,” she shot back in reply. Imagine donating your actual face to a robot thing.” She thumbed at her nose. “I guess open caskets aren’t a thing in the fifty-first.”

He huffed a small chuckle as Donna backed away from the thing. He noticed her approaching the shadows and pulled roughly at her arm. “No, wait. No!”

She backed off and shook his grasp from her arm. “Oi! Watch the hands, Spaceman.”

“The shadow,” he shot in quickly with a point toward the ground. “Look!”

“Yeah?” She drawled. “What about it?”

“Count the shadows,” he ordered her. He heard her count of a single number and gave a nod noting the triangular shape of the shadow. “Yeah, but what’s casting it?” He walked around the edges, narrowing his eyes and thinking of any and all possibilities as to just what he was looking at. Finally, after a moment, his eyes widened and his hands flew into his hair. “Oh! I’m thick!” he exclaimed loudly as he clutched at his hair with both hands. He growled before he spoke again. “Look at me, I’m old and thick. Head’s too full of stuff. I need a bigger head.”

“No,” Donna shot back. “You don’t. Any bigger than it already is, and you won’t be able to hold it up with that skinny neck of yours.”

The clanking of lights going out echoed in from the corridor. Both of them looked toward the darkening corridor. 

“The power’s going out,” Donna observed darkly.

He shook his head. “This place runs on fission cells. They’ll outlast the sun.”

“Then why’s it getting dark?” she pointed to the corridor. “And that sound’s pretty distinct, that’s the sound of lights being turned off.” She looked to the floor and frowned. “The shadow’s gone.’

He lifted his eyes to hers. “We need to get back to the TARDIS, and we need to get there now.”

“Oh,’ she breathed out worriedly. “If you’re saying it, then this is pretty bad. What’s going on?”

“The shadow hasn’t disappeared,” he answered her through his teeth. “It’s moved.”

The droid whirred to life, startling both Donna and the Doctor. “Reminder. The library has been breached,” it warned in a level emotionless voice. “Others are coming. Reminder, the library has been breached.”

The droid continue to issue the same warning over and over. The Doctor was ready to silence it with his Sonic, when a door to the front of the room blew open with a flash of light. Out of the brilliant white light that had both Donna and the Doctor lift their arms to shield them from the light, six figured emerged. All of them bipedal, and all of them wearing white space suits.

One member of the group stepped forward, the Doctor assuming her to be the leader of them. She touched the side of her helmet to adjust the polarising filter. Through the now transparent glass visor, the Doctor could see the rounded face of a female. A female who seemed to know him, if her smile was anything to go by.

“Hello Sweetie,” she purred out familiarly.

Sweetie? Well, that might be a greeting he’d have to think on a little later. Right now, however, he was more of the mind to ignore that greeting and tell them rather rudely that they needed to get out. Which is precisely what he did. With a curl in his lip, and aggression in his eye, he pointed toward the door. “Get out!” he demanded hotly.

Donna spoke his voice in warning that he was being rude. He paid no mind to it, though. Sometimes being rude was the perfect – and only – thing to be at times. He strode a few steps forward and pushed more urgency into his tone. “All of you,” he warned. “Turn around, get back in your rocket and fly away.” He swallowed and lifted his brows into his hairline. He softened his tone just slightly. “Tell your grandchildren that you came to the library and you survived. They won’t believe you.”

The woman ignored them completely. She pretty much just shrugged him off as she turned to her group and told them that they were fine to pop their helmets. He watched a casual exchange between them all with stunned silence. He was issuing them warning and they were ignoring them completely. Judging by the complaints of one of them, this group were part of an expedition.

“Please just leave,” he tried again, this time with less aggression and more pleading in his voice. His eyes were wide and full of warning that all was not well here. “I’m asking you seriously and properly, just leave.” He paused, his face crinkling as he further considered the words shared between the group. “Hold on, did you just say _expedition_?”

A rather pompous and self-congratulating kind of man gave him a nod. His expression toward the doctor was one of indignance. “My expedition,” he answered. “I funded it.”

The Doctor’s face fell, as did his posture. “Oh, you’re not, are you?” His face turned up with judgement. “Tell me you’re not archaeologists.”

The woman twisted her head quickly enough that the mass of blonde curls held in a ponytail on her head bounced and swung. “Got a problem with archaeologists?” she challenged him hotly.

He snorted. “I’m a time traveller,” he advised her with a sneer. “I point and laugh at archaeologists.”

“Ahhh,’ she breathed out knowingly. She held out a hand to him, which he seemed to look at, but not take. “Professor River Song, archaeologist.”

The retort that her parents were obviously hippies if they gave her that name wandered through his mind, but he didn’t had time to engage in that debate right now. Instead he walked toward her, turned her around, and tried to push her toward the door. “River Song. Well, what a lovely name. As you’re leaving, and you’re leaving now, you need to set up a quarantine beacon.” He took a breath. “Code wall the planet, the whole planet. Nobody comes here. Not ever again. Not one living thing, not here, not ever.” He released River from his guiding push to turn toward a woman who was coming perilously close to the shadows. “Wait. Stop right there.” He pointed at her. “What’s your name?”

She looked at him with wide eyes. “Anita,’ she answered, not giving him any more than that.

“Anita,” he repeated with a voice full of order and firmness. “Stay out of the shadows. Don’t step a foot, or even a finger in the shadows until you are safely back in your ship.” He turned back to the rest of them, spreading his arms lightly outward with a shoo in his fingers as though to gather them all. “That goes for all of you. Stay in the light. Find a nice, bright spot and just stand.” He panted a couple of breaths, hoping beyond all hope that they’d actually listen to him. He looked toward a man who was still wearing his helmet. His eyes widened and he lowered his voice and the level of aggression in his tone. He walked toward him. “If you understand me then look scared. Look very, very scared.” There was very little shift in the man’s expression, which he found concerning. “You. Who are you?”

He made a sound of unease and answered with the same level of discomfort. “Er. Dave.”

“Okay,” the Doctor breathed out. “Dave. The way you came in, does it look the same as before?”

“What do you mean?”

“How’s it look?” he said with exasperation, which he quickly leveled back down to normal. He pointed toward the door. “The Door, over there. The one you came through. Does the corridor look the same as it did before?”

He nodded. “Yeah,’ he drawled. “Oh, it’s maybe a bit darker.”

“How much darker?”

“Oh,” he answered quickly. “Like I could see where we came through just a moment ago. I can’t now.”

“Rassilon.” He huffed out and rubbed at his chin. “Right.” He pointed to the door. “Seal up this door. We’ll find another way out.

Donna watched what was going on with a sense of worry. Sure, the Doctor had his moments of being terse and rude at times. He could be a forgetful and even unthoughtful at times, but this level of rudeness was something that went way beyond the norm. He was urgent, and he was scared – that was something she could see with perfect clarity. As he continued to banter with the group, she strode toward him, finding safety at his side rather than behind him. When papers were thrust into her hand, contracts or wavers she assumed, she shared a look with the Time Lord and in perfect synch they both tore them up together.

If the Doctor was going to get his back up and get defensive against these people, then she was going to back him up and stand at his side. She had to admit having a curiosity about this River Song person. She greeted the Doctor with the word “sweetie”, which meant she was the one who asked him to come.

She watched curiously as she attempted to flirt with the Doctor, which seemed to fall on deaf, ignorant ears. She gave up on that quite quickly as the Doctor moved from banter into investigation and almost excitable instruction.

He held out his hand to request a torch from the man called Lux. He took the flashlight and shone it into the recesses of the room.

“Almost every species in the universe has an irrational fear of the dark,” he breathed out with a smile. “But they’re wrong, because it’s not irrational, it’s Vashta Nerada.”

Well that as a new one, even for her. Donna frowned and leaned down to him. “What’s Vashta Nerada?”

It’s what hides in the dark,” he lectured gently. “It’s what’s always in the dark.” His head shot up and a grin spread across his face. “Lights!” he cheered. “That’s what we need, lights. You got lights?”

River gave him an expression of puzzlement. “What for?”

“Form a circle,” he demanded excitedly, jumping up and walking around. “Safe area. Surround yourself with the light. Torches pointing outward. Please.”

With arguing from the group, but insistence and order from the one called River Song, the group finally did as they were asked. The Doctor took a breath and wandered off to one side, his mind ticking with how to get all of them out of this situation without anyone getting killed. 

He was curious about this River Song woman. Clearly she was the one that invited him along to the library. If her calling him _Sweetie_ wasn’t evidence enough, the familiar way in which she seemed to interact with him really did seal the deal, so to speak. She was obviously someone from his future, that was clear, but just who she was to him in the future? Well, that remained to be seen.

Her voice cooed in softly from his side. “Thanks.”

His eyes were guarded when he turned to face her. “For what?”

“The usual. For coming when I asked you to,” she answered. She then smirked at him when he feigned surprise at the revelation. “And don’t pretend that you didn’t already work out it was me. It’s always me. I call, and you come.” 

He hummed rather noncommittally.

She looked at the group, and then back to him. There was a crease in her brow. “You’re doing a very good job acting like you don’t know me. I’m assuming there’s a reason for that.”

“A very good one, actually,” he ventured with a narrowing in one eye. He didn’t expand on that and say because I don’t. No. It would be more interesting for her to think he was acting that he didn’t know her and maybe learn a little more about who she was before she cottoned on and clammed up. If she knew him in the future, then it was highly probable that he’d warned her about revealing anything about anyone’s future.

“Okay,” she said with a sigh. “Shall we do diaries, then?” She opened a blue leather-bound book and ran her finger along a page. “Where are we this time? Err, going by your face, I’d day it’s early days for you, yeah.”

“Uh-huh,” he huffed out. Diaries? Why would they….? “It is. Early. Very early days for me.”

“So,” she began. “Crash of Byzantium. Have we done that yet?” She looked at him and watched him shake his head. “Ahh. Not ringing any bells. Right, Oh, picnic as Asgard, have we done that yet?”

“No,’ he replied with a whisper and a lift in his cheeks. Rassilon, these sounded like they were dates. Why was he taking this woman out on dates?

Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “Blimey, it’s very early days then.” She let out a breath in a loud sigh. “Life with a Time Traveller, never knew it could be such hard work.” She looked at him with a smile of familiarity and admiration. “Look at you. Oh, you’re young.”

“I’m really not,” he corrected quietly.

“Oh, but you are,” she countered. “Well, younger than the you I just left at any rate. All white hair and fierce eyebrows, that one.” She lifted her hand to his cheek, pulling back when he flinched from her. “Why do you act like you’ve never met me before?” Her voice took on a sound of hurt. “Please tell me you know who I am?”

“I’m not going to lie to you,” he answered simply, no longer having the energy to keep playing the game. “Who are you?” He exhaled. “And who do you think you are to me?”

~~oooOOOooo~~

This with this River Song and her desperation for him to remember her; to admit who she was to him; didn’t seem to back off too much from there. Whoever she believed she was to him, who they apparently were together, it was a relationship with such a depth of emotion, it scared him.

And it made absolutely no sense to him at all. Meeting with his son, and his daughter, with timelines spanning centuries ahead of him, he’d have believed that he spent his life with Rose and their children. This woman, however, was doing her all to make him believe that the life he had was actually lived was spent with her, and not his family.

He wanted to assume that perhaps she was another child of his. After all, his elder self had indicated that he and Rose had more than one daughter. But with her calling him _sweetie_ and _pretty_ _boy_ and being as hurt as she so obviously was that he didn’t know her. Well, that would definitely put her out of the realm of a father-daughter bond.

It was worrying. River knew so much about him. She wielded the same type of Sonic device that he did – more updated and advanced of course – and even stated that he’d personally given her that device.

They’d travelled to the ends of the universe together, she claimed that to her friends. She was push push pushing this relationship that she claimed to have with him, and it was really starting to grate on his nerves, and he was tiring of it.

And now, because of his distraction over the mystery of this woman, he’d lost Donna. In a moment where his attention faltered for just a second, his best friend, the one person he trusted most in this entire universe, and the one who grounded him, was gone. Lost somewhere within the library, hidden within some reality that existed just beyond this one. 

He would find her. Oh yes he would. He would take on the Vasta Nerada and regenerate over and over again until he was able to find her. 

Although, with only three regenerations left to spare, then it was probably for the best that he worked out just how to fight against the shadows while he had light to do so. If he could get out of this with this face intact, then it’d be a miracle.

“Going a bit grey around here, finally…”

That sentence swam in his mind a moment, and gave him hope that yes, he did make it out with this face intact. However, timelines in flux and all …

He growled as he tried scanning the shadows for a count of just how many were lurking within. He’d seen the numbers of them rise over the past twenty minutes, rising in number enough that this entire group would be devoured within seconds should the light vanish.

He tried other settings on his device, wondering if there were any that may act as a repellent to the beasts. There was no luck in that, though. If anything, it seemed to attract them and have them grow in number. He growled and lifted his head to the ceiling in frustration. 

River called across an order, instructing him to use a scanner that didn’t even exist. He thoughtlessly growled out something that he couldn’t even remember. Something rude, no doubt. Whatever it was, it drew her up from where she was seated. Her approach was one of unshielded frustration and annoyance. She moved in close to him and grabbed hold of his lapel with a tight grip of her left hand.

“I know you’ve lost your friend, and you’re upset,” she growled in warning. “I know that you don’t know who I am, that you don’t trust me in the slightest, and Doctor…” She sighed. “I don’t blame you. I truly don’t.”

He blinked at her, but said nothing.

“And while I get it that you’re in pain right now, and you want nothing more than to find her and make sure that she’s safe, you need to remember that you have an entire group of people relying on you to keep them safe as well. To get them out of here in one piece.”

“And how did that become my reasonability?” he asked with quiet petulance. “I thought _you_ were their tour guide.”

“I’m relying on you,” she revised. “And so _they_ rely on you.” She let out a breath and closed her eyes, clearly trying to come to a decision. After a moment she opened her eyes and gazed upon him with eyes full of adoration. “There will come a day, Doctor, when I become the one you trust most in this universe. Someone you trust completely. You and I, together, we’re something brilliant.”

“You’re not allowed to tell me this,” he croaked. “

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not possible,” he breathed out. “It’s not.”

She licked at her lip and nodded. “You think that now, but in time, Doctor. You and me?” An almost flustered smile spread across her face. “Wow.” Her smile fell fast. “But I can’t wait until then. I need you to trust me now, and there’s only one way I know how to do that.”

He shuddered, worried about what that might mean. She moved toward him, her lips heading close to his. With instinct, he pulled backward, but was held in place by her hold upon his lapel. Short of pressing her lips against his, however, she tilted up her chin to whisper against his ear. Breaths, puffed by the many syllables, peppered quietly against his ear. His breath caught and his body stilled as his name kissed against his ear.

River pulled back. There was worry in her tone. “So. Are we good?”

The Doctor didn’t answer her. He didn’t look at her. His expression remained wide-eyed and stunned, with his lips slightly parted as memories that were lost to him began to rise inside his mind. Gold swirled inside his mind as he recalled the moment his Eighth self found a distraught woman crying inside the TARDIS library. He remembered their path toward love, of the home they built, the family they created together. His body shuddered with the memories of love making, of tenderness…. Rassilon, he remembered it all.

His eyes were wide and turning red when he finally regained his vision and looked to this woman. There was a crinkle in his eye as the memories continued to flow inside his mind. He had to close his eyes again. “Rose,” he breathed out longingly.

“Rose?” River said with slight offence. “No, Doctor. I’m not your mother.”

~~oooOOOooo~~


	70. Mistaken Identity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> River and the Doctor slowly work it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday! Here's the ending of the River Song meets the Doctor thing. 
> 
> Not one of my favourite episodes, and certainly not for the reasons you think. I had feels during this one when it originally aired .. I truly did .. but then, things happened, her life got changed around, and there were no longer any feels to be had. (but that's only my interpretation of it ... I respect that others see it very differently) I kind've hope I put a few of them back in there and given it something a wee bit different.
> 
> Thanks for your most amazing response to the last chapter!! I was very thrilled to hear from you all!!
> 
> I hope you enjoy ... Rose stuff next chapter...

~~oooOOOooo~~

His head was reeling. There was an uncomfortable tingle in his shoulders and a general confusion about who this woman was that led toward an urgency to get back to his TARDIS, out the old girl in flight, and run as far away from this sense of unease and danger as he could.

Two things were stopping him from doing that, of course. One, Donna was still missing, and he had to find her. Two, there were innocent people still in this library that needed saving. Although this River Song person seemed perfectly capable of getting them off to safety on her own, it wasn’t part of his nature to step back and let someone else pick up the slack…

…Oh and certainly not when there was an additional mystery afoot…

Okay, there were three things, the third being just who this woman was to him. He had a rather good idea about it of course – he had a quite frankly brilliant mind for deduction after all – but, he wasn’t going to simply assume that his presumption was accurate. Not until he had more definite and concrete evidence to back up his assumption.

Despite her initial eagerness to poke and make sure he knew that in her timeline she was an extremely important person in his life, so much so that she could say his name with an accent more perfect than his new memories showed Rose whispering it against his ear in their more intimate moments…

…And this was an incredibly inappropriate moment for memories like that to enter his mind’s eye.

Despite that initial readiness to push and convince him she was his beacon in a future timeline, River Song shut down pretty quickly after speaking his name. It was as though she had decided that despite him clearly being the Time Lord Doctor, he wasn’t the version of him that she was actually looking for.

“ _Well, you get what you can get when you sent out a psychic message rather than picking up the phone_ ,” him mind supplied somewhat indignantly. 

And then that led to an interesting thought as well. Professor River Song had sent out a call to him prior to her arrival at the library. Why would she have done that? If she knew this planet was so incredibly dangerous that it required his attention, then why in Rassilon did she bring along an expedition of innocent and sorely unprepared victims rather than decline and state that until the problem was resolved it was too dangerous for a day-trip? Was she truly _that_ reckless? Was a payday more important to her than the safety of others?

It didn’t make a lot of sense to him. When he ended up dragging a companion into a perilous situation, it was typically by accident. He didn’t deliberately put them in dangerous situations.

Squatted on the mezzanine floor about half a storey from where the remainder of the group were, he looked over the edge of the balcony toward where River was scanning the shadows and talking to Anita. He could hear their conversation as clearly as if she was talking to him directly.

“You know, it’s funny,” she said without a smile. “I keep wishing the Doctor was here.”

Anita answered pretty much in the same way the Doctor’s mind was: _right here, dear. The Doctor is right here._

Her next words shook him. The man she described was not him, and to this point in his many lives had never been him.

“You know when you see a photograph of someone you know, but it’s from years before you knew them. It’s like they’re not quite finished. They’re not done yet.” Longing and adoration filled her voice. He could see the same in the way she held herself. “Well, yes, the Doctor’s here. He came when I called, just like he always does.” She swallowed and disappointment shifted in. “But not my Doctor.”

The Doctor watched her, his eyes hardening with frustration.

“Now my Doctor, I’ve seen while armies turn and run away.” Her adoration returned. “And he’d just swagger off back to his TARDIS and open the door with a snap of his fingers. The Doctor in the TARDIS, next stop, everywhere.”

Okay, that was enough. Those words didn’t describe him with any accuracy at all. Swagger? Since when did he swagger? And since when did he open the TARDIS doors with a snap of his fingers? How disrespectful to the old girl for him to make a demand of her in a smug and arrogant manner such as that?

“Spoilers,” he growled with impatience. He leapt over the small gate that led to the short set of stairs down to the landing. He walked toward her with a look of irritation on his face. “Nobody can open a TARDIS by snapping their fingers. That would be disrespectful to her, and…” His lip lifted with disgust. “And it just doesn’t work like that.”

She gave him a smug expression. “It does for the Doctor.”

He leaned close to her, his voice dipping into a breathy growl. “I _am_ the Doctor.”

“Yeah,” she drawled with distaste. “Maybe some day when you’ve grown up a little.”

He opted not to respond to that remark. Instead he deliberately turned his back to her to talk to the Anita, to see how she was faring in the face of the terror she was in. River didn’t seem to be occupied by any thoughts that weren’t how much she preferred her Doctor over him, so it looked like this was all up to him. He spoke to Anita with kindness and caring when he asked if there was anything he could get for her.

“Old age would be nice. Anything you can do?”

Oh that hit hard. She was terrified and was now resigned to the fact that she wasn’t going to get out here. He couldn’t blame her, she’d already watched someone succumb to the Vashta Nerada. Well. He wasn’t going to let it take another…

“I’m on it,” he promised her with a smile.

“Doctor,” she said almost timidly. “When we first met you, you didn’t trust Professor Song.”

He gave her a rather expressionless look, curious as to what she was going to say next. “That’s because I hadn’t met her until today. I do tend to be somewhat suspicious when people claim to be an important part of my future like she did.”

Anita nodded. “She mentioned that you were a time traveller.” She offered him a weak smile. “Must be difficult living that life, not knowing if the person you meet knows you as well as you know them.”

“And vice versa,” he admitted with a smile creeping in. “It’s not an easy life at all.” He blew out a breath and his brows lifted with wonder, and then fell with remorse. “I’ve met my adult son and daughter, but in this timeline, I haven’t met them yet.” He looked at her, his expression soft. “Well, that is to say I haven’t _seen_ them yet … at least with these eyes.”

River’s voice caught. There was a sense of both awe and fear in her tone. “Are you telling me that we. That you and me, we have…?” She didn’t finish the question, especially when he looked toward her with a pinch of warning in his eye.

Time to confirm who he was to her. It was clear that he was truly not the man she thought he was. Her description of him just didn’t fit with him now, nor any body he’d lived before him. He didn’t imagine it could even be a him down along his future. She described a man who may as well have been a God, a legendary warrior, a proud, swaggering fool who was so smug as to insult his oldest and most beloved travelling companion by ordering her with a snap of his fingers. Oh, he may have been a reluctant warrior once, but that was a long time ago, when his people were at war … and he vowed that he would never become that kind of man ever again. He may wander. He may help those in need. He may stand up and not back down when the need calls for it. But he will never … never now, never before, and never in his future, be the type of man who is so universally feared that entire armies would turn away from in fright, and worse, be _happy_ to have that kind of reputation.

Whoever her Doctor was, it definitely wasn’t him. “Yes, I have children,” he clarified firmly, his eyes hard on her. “With my _wife_ , Rose.”

Her hands flew to cover her mouth. “Oh my God…”

“So you’re right,” he breezed out with a lift in his shoulders as his hands moved into his trouser pockets. “I’m not the Doctor you were expecting. And if I’m going to be honest with you…” He took a step toward her. His voice softened toward breathy as he lifted his chin to look down to her. “I don’t think I’m the man who even becomes him.”

The look of heartbreak on her face almost destroyed him on the spot. Part of him immediately wished that he could take that back and assure her that, yeah, okay, while he might not be right now, he may well be her Doctor in the future. Regenerations, you know. A bit of a lottery…

…But he couldn’t lie. Not about that. That would be cruel, and he made a promise to himself so, so long ago never to be cruel.

“I’m sorry, River,” he breathed out with true apology. “I’m so sorry.”

“But he always comes,” she breathed out. “Always. He’s _never_ let me down.”

“And you know what,” he said to her, with a smile growing on his face. He leaned forward and lowered the tone of his voice to make her a fierce vow. “Neither will I.” His brows lifted. “Because I’m the Doctor. I’m the man who answered your call, and I’m the man that will make sure that you, and everyone else here is safe…”

He straightened up and repeated the word to himself. His hand moved from his pockets and into his hair and he paced repeating that word over and over again to himself. “Safe. All of us safe. You safe, me safe, them safe. Safe. Safe. Safe.”

River gave him a look of irritation. “What are you rambling about?”

“Safe, safe, safe,” he continued as his clutched at his hair and gave each member of the party a wide-eyed look. “Everyone is safe…”

River’s expression of irritation slowly shifted toward hope as she realized what he was doing. His chanting of the word slowed and his concentration narrowed to one point on the floor. She made a wary move toward him. “Doctor?” she called with question in her voice. “What is so important about the word safe?”

His hands fell from his hair and he looked toward her. “Safe. You don’t say _saved_. Nobody says _saved_. You say _safe_.” He spun to face Lux and pointed a long narrow finger in his direction. “You! The data fragment. What did it say?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you,” he barked with irritation. “You were listening to it. We all were. So tell me. What did it say?”

“Four thousand and twenty two people saved,” he answered after a second’s thought. “No survivors.”

“That’s right!” he cheered with a snap of his fingers. “You pass the pop quiz and get an A!”

River stepped forward and put her hand on his shoulder to get his attention. “Doctor?”

He spun to her. “Nobody says saved,” he said with a grin. “Nutters say saved.” He pointed at her. “You say Safe.”

“Where are you going with this?” she asked urgently.

“You see. It didn’t mean safe.” He cupped her face in his hands, moving close with an excited smile across his cheeks. His eyes were wide, but softened. “It mean, literally mean, saved.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

He woke up on the ground, quite unsure of what happened to him. He held at his jaw as he shifted a seat. It hurt. A lot. His jaw hurt, a lot, and he couldn’t quite figure out just why that was. His movements to sit up were hampered as well, and with a curl in his lip as he assessed just why he felt so restricted, he realised that he was tethered by handcuffs to a railing.

What in Rassilon…?

He looked around for a second to try and get his bearings.

“Oh, you’re finally up, are you?” River Song called out from the front of the room. She was distracted by her own task, but did seem amused by him. “Didn’t think you’d wake up for this bit. Which is a shame…” She flicked her eyes to him. “It’s one of those you can’t miss it things.”

He blinked for clarity and tugged at the cuffs. He could see what she was doing, and he didn’t approve. No. Not at all. “On no, no no,” he said urgently. “Come on, what are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” she challenged with a smile.

“But that’s my job.”

That made her chuckle. “Typical man, always thinking he’s better at the job, when more often than not, a woman can do it better.”

“Yes yes,” he chipped out. “Girl power. Good for you. Now please. Stop.”

“Come and stop me,” she purred with a wink in her eye.

He growled as he tugged at the cuff. He pulled himself as close as he could. “Why am I handcuffed?” he looked at her with uncomforted question in his eyes. “Why do you have handcuffs?”

“Best we don’t get into that,” she teased. 

“This isn’t a joke,” he shot back urgently. His expression was one of desperation and pleading. “River, stop this now.” His head shook. “This is going to kill you. I’d have a chance, you don’t have any.”

“How do you know that I don’t?” she challenged. “Just so you know. I was born able to regenerate…”

“You’re a Time Lord?” 

“Lady,” she corrected him sharply. 

“Fine fine. Lord or Lady, it really doesn’t matter.” His eyes widened as his panic began to grow. He couldn’t sit by and watch another Time Lord or Lady die. No. Not again. No more. “No, River. Please. You can’t do this. There’s so few of us left, and I cant … I just can’t…”

“I’m not Gallfireyan,” she confirmed. “Nor am I a Time Lady. More of a genetic manipulation, I suppose.”

“That doesn’t matter,” he begged. “If you’re like me, then…”

“Oh, I’m nothing like you,” she said with a laugh. She looked to a countdown on a monitor to her side, which was far too ominous and large than what should have been appropriate. Nothing like watching the countdown to your death in full colour HD. “I’m timing this for the end of the countdown. There’ll be a blip in the command flow.” She looked to him. “That way it should improve the chance of a clean download.”

“No, River,” he pleaded. “You can’t do this. There has to be another way.”

Her head shook as she secured herself in place. “No. There isn’t. This is the only way, and I’m the only one who can do it.” She looked toward him. “I don’t know why I didn’t immediately know who you were when we first met,” she admitted. “It should have been obvious. He speaks of you and your own travels with such admiration and awe.”

“He,” the Doctor said softly. You’re the companion of my son.”

She nodded. “We are so much more than just companions, Doctor. He and I, we’re….” She looked up and smiled longingly. “We’re something special together.”

“Are you his wife?”

River chuckled and looked downward. “Only when it suits one or both of us.”

“I-I don’t understand.” His brows pinched. “You either are or you aren’t. It’s not that complicated.”

A smile stretched across her face. “Oh I think you know, Doctor, that life with you is always _just that complicated_.” She looked at him. “As it is with your son.”

“I can’t let you do this, then,” he implored within a whine. “I can’t let my daughter-in-law sacrifice herself. Not for me. How do I explain to him, to my wife, that I let you do this?”

She smiled at him softly. “You didn’t,” she corrected him. “And if you think about it, Doctor. _Really_ think about it. He always knew this was how I was going to die.”

“What?”

“All the time we’ve been together, he knew I was coming here.” She looked off to one side. “Which would explain the guilt, and his fear to get too close.” Her eyes closed. “He’s known me my entire life. From the day I was born and until we parted last night.” She looked at him with a longing smile. “He took me to Darillium to see the Singing Towers,” she breathed out. “He showed up with a new suit, a fresh haircut. We spent the night there, and _what_ a night it was…”

“A night on Darillium is 24 years long,” he said with a pinch of curiosity in his brow. “You spent the entire night…”

She nodded and chuckled. “Definitely the longest stretch of time we’ve ever been together,” she admitted. “And I’m surprised that we didn’t give up and run after two weeks like we normally do. But how could I?” Her brows came together. “He was so attentive, so caring. He didn’t want me to leave.” Her eyes shot to him. “He knew I was leaving straight from there to come here.”

“I’m sorry,” he breathed out.

“Don’t be,’ she assured him. “I’m not. At least not really.” She drew in a deep breath. “I’ve come full circle with him now I suppose. He’s the reason I was born the way I was, why I lived the life that I did, and now why I’ll die like I am.” She fiddled with the straps over her shoulders, ensuring that she was properly secured into the large clasp against her hips. “My entire life was just a manipulation at the Doctor’s hand. My birth, what I studied at university. Where I studied. My incarceration in the storm cage. All of was because of him. He made me become obsessed and then fall in love with him. He made me need him, to rely on him. It was all a carefully crafted and orchestrated existence so I would end up here, in this place, with you.” She blinked. “And my love for him not allowing me to let him live in a universe where his father is dead.”

The Doctor was mortified by what he was hearing. “River, you don’t need to do this.” 

She spoke as though he hadn’t. “And the ironic thing is that right now, Doctor. Right now, I hate him just as much as I love him, but I can’t let him down and not go through with this.” She looked at him with heartbreak in her eyes. “He couldn’t even give me his name,” she spat. “He couldn’t even do that for me. His name.”

“His name,” the Doctor began. “Is…”

“Don’t you dare,” she snarled. “Don’t you _dare_ tell me what it is. It was his secret to tell me, not yours.”

A robotic voice announced autodestruct in a minute.

She started to fear, that much was obvious. It was a scarce group of people who didn’t fear death, and e couldn’t fault her for it. She shuddered as she spoke with him, desperate for his acceptance and understanding. “You make sure he knows,” she said hurriedly. “You tell him how much he means to me. How much I loved how we ran together throughout all time and space, from one end of the universe to the other. I loved it. I loved it all.” She bit at her lip as a tear rand down her cheek. “How much I loved _him_.”

The Doctor looked at the countdown. She only had seconds left. He tugged desperately. “No, River. Don’t do this and sacrifice yourself like this. I can make it better, I promise.”

“And how do you plan to do what if you’re dead?” she asked him flatly. “No, Doctor. I need to do this.”

The counter started to read off a countdown, from ten to one. 

“River, please?” The Doctor yelled urgently. “Don’t do this.”

“Tell him,” she demanded of him. “You tell him what I did for him today, and how much I love him.” She held the cables together. “How much I will always love him.”

She joined the cables together, and the room filled with a bright blinding light.

~~oooOOOooo~~

The Doctor put River’s diary on the balcony rail, her sonic screwdriver placed on top. Her sacrifice was one that he’d never be able to forget. Her last words would haunt him for the rest of his lives. Donna stood quietly at his side. She would never wholly comprehend the sacrifice, but with that sacrifice, Donna was able to be saved.

“Your friend, Professor Song,” she said softly, ignoring his obvious his distress. “She said that she knew you in the future, but she didn’t seem to know me.” She swallowed worriedly. “What happens to me?”

“There’s a simple explanation for that, actually.” His thumb tapped on the diary. “River Song. Well. She…” he paused and pursed his lips. He broke into a forced smile. “Case of mistaken identity. Professor Song through I was someone else.”

“But she called you, Doctor.”

He nodded. “She did.”

Donna’s brows lifted, but she didn’t say anything. She hoped that he’d pick up on her silent question and explain a bit further. He didn’t, which made her growl and nudge him with her shoulder. “Well?”

“Well, what?” he asked with faux innocence. He knew exactly what she wanted to know.

“Who did she think you were?” she said with a roll in her eye.

A slightly gruff Scottish accent answered that question. “She thought he was me.” 

The Doctor’s eyes shot up. There was a level of shock and also anger in his glare. “Hello Mark.”

“Hi Dad,” he breathed back. He didn’t appear to look happy. If anything, he just seemed to be irritated. “Long time no see.”

“What did you do?” the Doctor asked him without pausing for niceties. He didn’t even register the fact that his son, who had light blonde-brown hair when they met only a few months ago, now had a thick and full head of wild grey hair, which suggested that the man that stood before him now was quite likely even older then he was right now. But even so, he stepped toward him with a flash of anger in his eyes. “What did you do?”

“I kept the timelines on track,” he answered him sharply. “Closed the loop that was set in motion today. A loop that you will have to remind me of when I take the TARDIS keys from you and start travelling on my own.” He blew out a breath. “River’s there from the very start of me, Dad. From the very start, right up to now.”

“She’s your mate?” he queried with a tic in his eye.

“Handfasted,” he said with a shrug. “Done during an adventure where it was either get married or the universe explodes.” His head shook. “But not mated. Not yet. Not before this moment, I couldn’t do it.”

“Not even on Darillium? Before you sent her here to her death?”

He smiled. “She told you about that?” He smiled with fond remembrance. “Yeah. What a night _that_ was.” He flicked his eyes to his father. “Which actually only ended about eighteen hours ago for me and for her.” He looked at the diary. “As for her death. Well. Death can sometimes be overstated, over rated, and escaped.”

The Doctor kept his eyes on his son and used his fingertip to push the diary across the balcony edge toward him. “And so what do you propose to do now, Mark? Hmmmm?”

He smirked off to one side as he pulled over the diary. He picked up the sonic and took a brief look at the display. He smiled and drew a fingertip along the green light. His eyes lifted. “Well. I’m going go get her, aren’t ?”

“I’m sorry?”

Mark chuckled at his father’s look of confusion. He held up the sonic and gave him a wink. “You and me worked on this one for weeks about three years before Darilium. Took a bit of effort, and plenty of singed fingertips, swearing, destroyed kitchen appliances which upset mum, but we finally got it sleek and working well.” He smiled. “So what do you think?”

The Doctor’s jaw lengthened with surprise. He snatched the sonic out of his son’s hand and looked upon the blinking lights with hope. “A neural relay,” he observed with awe. He lifted his head to his son. “This is a neural relay device!”

“Sure is,” Mark answered with a smile. “River’s not dead. At least not yet. Got plenty of time left to run across the universe.”

The Doctor cheered. He leapt forward and hugged his eldest child with thrill and joy in is voice. “She lived. She didn’t die! She didn’t sacrifice herself to save me!”

Mark moaned. “Oh don’t give yourself that much credit, Dad.” He pulled out of the hug and took a step back. “But on that note. Getting low on time. If I’m going to save her, then I’d best be off.”

“Yes. Yes of course,” the Doctor said with a nod. “You go now. Go save her.”

Mark leaned to one side and kissed Donna on the cheek. “Auntie Donna. Good to see you again.”

“And you,” she replied with a slow nod of her head. “Go get her.”

He tipped a lazy casual salute with his fingers at his temple, gave her a wink, and then took off at a run. He waved as he disappeared down the hall. “See you later!”

“Mark!” the Doctor called back, waiting for his son to stop before speaking further. When he turned with a lift of question in his brows, the Doctor gave him a smile. “Your name. Give it to her this time, yeah? Not _my_ name, _yours_.”

Mark answered with only a smile, and then waved and disappeared around a corner. The Doctor looked at the empty corridor for a moment and then looked to his companion, who was watching him with a smile. “So she mistook you for your kid.” She bit onto a laugh. “She thought you were her, what, lover?” 

He started to walk toward the TARDIS. “Yeah,” he drawled with discomfort.

Donna was amused. “Getting all snuggly lovey dovey with the old man instead.”

“Donna…”

“Must be relieved by that,” she mused with a shrug. “I mean. Imagine how horrified she must’ve been thinkin’ that the man she loved was a skinny little streak of nothing like you…”

“Instead of the old boy with the grey hair and angry eyebrows?” He straightened his tie. “I don’t think she was too disappointed by the idea. She called me the pretty boy, remember.”

“That’s what you call a dog,” she gruffed with tease. “Not the man you love.”

He stopped her before they got to the TARDIS. “Gimme a moment,” he asked her. He looked down at his hand and then up at the door to his ship. He held his thumb against his middle finger and made a loud snapping sound. He looked at the door with anticipation, but nothing. It didn’t open. His ship just stood silently in wait. “Uh-huh,” he drawled with disappointment. “Guess not, then.”

“What’re you doing?” Donna asked him with a frown. “You think the door will open because you snap your finger at it?” She let up a single laugh. “the TARDIS is a smart girl, Dumbo. She’s not going to get down on a bended knee and answer to a snap of your fingers, you know.” She walked to the door and pressed her hand against it, smirking as it opened without her having to use a key. “Respect, Doctor. She needs respect.”

“Indeed she does,” he said with a nod as he followed her inside.

He said nothing further as he walked straight to the console and flipped the switch to put her into the vortex. He stood silently at the console, thinking about the day, about River, and about the memories she released when she spoke his name against her ear. Memories that would take him a while to filter through, to analyse, and to let take up permanent residence inside the most precious parts of his mind.

Another memory flashed inside his mind. One that had almost all but been forgotten by both he and Rose once their life had truly begun together. He shot a quick look toward Donna, wondering just what she had in mind for a post-adventure get together. She looked thoroughly beat, though.

“Donna,” he called lightly to her as she made her way to the corridor that would take her to the living quarters.

She paused and looked back at him, exhaustion clear in her eyes. “Yes, Doctor?”

“Are you okay?”

She gave him a smile. “I’m okay,” she assured him with a nod. “I have a bit of decompressing to do.” She sighed. “But if I’m being honest, and if you don’t mind, it’s something I prefer to do by myself.”

“I understand,” he said with a weak smile. “But if you need to talk. I’m here, yeah?”

“Thank you, Doctor,” she said from the doorway. “Good night.”

“No night on the TARDIS.”

“There is if I say there is.”

And with that she was gone, disappeared into the living quarters of his ship. He waited a moment, just to see if she would change her mind and come back in and try to talk to him, or talk him into doing somethgn to clear both of their minds. When she didn’t return, he thrust his hands into his pockets and walked into the corridor himself. He stood in the doorway for a short moment and then looked to the wall.

“Okay,” he said softly. “You know where it is. Show me.”

He heard the distinct sound of corridors and doors being rearranged, and then followed the path of light that took him from one hallway to another. Finally, he reached an unfamiliar door. It was a wood that was so perfectly white that it would be blinding in the right light. He inhaled a deep breath and pressed his hand against the wood. It was smooth under his palm. Flawless and without noticeable knots or grain, it was smooth and very warm. He traced his thumb along the surface and then gave it a light push. It released with a light hiss and swung open just a few inches.

Immediately he felt the wash of hot air from within. Along that hot breeze was the soft, yet brilliantly aromatic scent of blooms that he’d long since thought extinct. His eyes drifted down and onto long red grass that curled around and underneath his chucks.

“No,” he breathed to himself. “It can’t be.” 

His eyes lifted and he gave the door a hard push. It opened completely to reveal the full majesty within. His eyes misted over completely as he stepped across the threshold, from a barren coral corridor of his ship, and out onto a magnificent Gallifreyan cliffside. He stepped deep into the room, and onto the cliff edge to look across the gully at the Magnolia orchard below. 

This was a carefully designed TARDIS rendering of the cliffside that he and Rose had met on, oh, so many years ago, and where they’d spent the first year of the life together before moving into their home. His mind provided the memory of her desire to recreate this mountain in their first few months together and how, despite her willingness at that time to leave him, how she wanted to make sure she left this gift for him first. She’d spent days planting seeds and saplings and working with the TARDIS to design the perfect backdrop of dual suns and the mountains and gullies.

The last time she’d been in here, there was nary a blade of grass or a tree higher than her knee. Now, after centuries of growth and tender climate control from his ship, her saplings were now towering trees of white and silver. There was an entire carpet of red grasses growing in any open space available to it. Purple Schlenk blossom blooms were scattered without any particular order within the red, and a smattering of fallen silver leaves littered large boulders that overlooked the cliff.

He stooped and plucked a purple blossom from the ground. He held it within both hands as he dipped his head and drew in a long breath of a scent he had long said was his favourite smell in the entire universe. He kept his eye on the bloom as he sat on the edge of a large boulder and shifted his palms just enough that the bloom would spin and twirl in his hand. Soft yellow pollens from the bloom’s centre lifted and sprayed across the petals and onto his hand, the scent of it following and listing to his nose.

Again he drew in a breath and lifted his head to look across the cliffs of home. “Thank you, Rose,” he whispered into the gully. 

“Wow,” Donna’s voice filtered in from the doorway. “This is beautiful. What is it?”

He lifted his head to the largest of the two suns. Of course the TARDIS would lead her here. He turned his head to her, but didn’t step up from the boulder, nor drop the blossom in his hand. “This is home,” he answered with reverence in his voice. “Well. Of course it’s not real. It’s a rendering of fhe cliffs over Mount Lung where I grew up.”

She walked over to the boulder, forcing him to scooch over with a wriggle of her hips. “It’s absolutely beautiful.” She looked across the mountains with a smile. “I didn’t know this room even existed,” she said. 

“Neither did I until now,” he admitted as he let his eyes fall to the bloom. “Rose made it for me, and I suppose…” He blew out a breath. “I suppose it really wasn’t ready until now.”

“Rose made it?” she asked curiously. “When’d she do that?”

“Back on Gallifrey,” he said with a smile. “When we first met…” He frowned. “When we met for the second time…” His head tilted. “We fell in love here.”

“You don’t ever speak about Gallifrey,” she said to him after a moment. 

“Because it hurts,” he admitted. “This. This view. These mountains. The grass, flowers, trees. It’s all gone.” 

She looked at him. Then the tapped at his head. “If it’s in here, then it’s never gone.” She looked back at the scenery. “And it’s here, too. And it’s amazing.”

“It is,” he agreed.

“Tell me about it, Doctor,” she said softly. “Tell me about your home, about Gallifrey.”

“Where do I start?” he asked, more to himself than her.

“Wherever you want,” she said to him. 

“I wish you could have seen it, Donna,” he began. “That old planet….”

~~oooOOOooo~~


	71. The Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> War is horrific...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I woke up this morning and saw my inbox full of comments, I was completely shocked. I don't often get so many reviews on my work.
> 
> Imagine my shock, and then my utter, utter, joy, to see that the comments section had become an actual discussion among you guys. That was so absolutely and utterly brilliant and I want to say that if you want to fill up my inbox with open and honest discussions like that, then please continue to do so! I was thrilled to see you come together like that, and to see that even though we might not always think so, that sometimes we have very similar positions and interpretations of the writing of others. Mutual respect and understanding and all that! Gawd, I almost wanted to create a legit forum board right at that moment, point to it, and say: HEY! Let's all chat, and discuss!!
> 
> I obviously really need some human connection right now ... six weeks in isolation right now and I'm really missing seeing other people.
> 
> Anyhoo... some Rose-centred stuff that leads into the next chapter and an episode that ... well ... that truly doesn't really make a lot of sense as to how, why, what? Doesn't mean I didn't love the episode in question, because it's one of my favs, but it really was quite odd as to how, why, and when...
> 
> Ahh, and yes. Journey's End and Stolen Earth aren't part of this universe. I had considered it, but I honestly love those eps far too much to even think of going near them. Nope. Keep those intact and out of my destructive hands.
> 
> I hope you enjoy, and again, feel free to fill up my inbox with your discussions. Again, I absolutely loved every single word of it!

~~oooOOOooo~~

It was becoming quite clear to Rose Tyler that there was a heck of a lot more to war and the rush toward victory than what was contained in the legends and tales of battle. She’d watched plenty of wartime movies in her short life and listened to the stories told by the veterans on Remembrance Day. They were almost always tales of gunfire and bloodshed, of heroic acts amongst battalion brothers. Lives lost and lives saved out in the field, sacrifice and honour. Mud, blood, guts, and tears … 

…Men and women risking their lives and limbs in the protection and honour of their lands and peoples to fight for the greater good of all.

So many more times than once she was reduced to tears at the feet of a veteran as he regaled the room with his tales of life out in the field, and of friends and brothers lost in enemy fire. Her heart could either swell or break as the tale shifted toward the soldier’s return home … and whether or not he truly had a home to return to at all. Love could be a fickle beast, and more times than not, a weary soldier returned to the woman he fought for, only to find that in his absence her heart had been given to another. 

They carried their photographs with them like precious totems. No matter the blood, mud and mess that covered them almost constantly during battle, those photographs were almost always kept pristine. Held close to their hearts protected from the fight. 

She’d seen one or two of those precious personal talismans on the soldiers that were brought in here. Most oftentimes the photographs of mates and loved ones were placed on a stainless steel tray that set beside the ailing, wounded man. Held down by the weight of medical tools, these precious photos often survived the regeneration blasts as the wounded man became whole once more. Before his new hearts had even pumped their first beats, he would put that picture back into the chest pocket of his fatigue tunic to ensure that the woman held within that picture would feel the beating of his hearts as he stepped out into war once again.

They were, beyond any measure of doubt, some of the bravest men she’d ever seen. Even in their weakest moments when they’d curl into a ball on their gurney to break down and cry, these soldiers were still the bravest souls that lived.

She could be forgiven for thinking that regenerations, and additional lives at each man’s disposal would in some way minimise their sacrifice. But as she saw soldier after soldier suffer through the agonies and pains of death, only to be reborn and then return to suffer that agony again, she had to wonder if it was a blessing or a curse. Noone should have to die, and then have to die again, and again.

Bravery wasn’t limited to the men who fought, died, and lived again. Those that worked so tirelessly behind the scenes suffered just as much as those that were brought in wailing in agony. Ambulance teams, the ones that were tasked with following the path of war to pick up the injured where they fell oftentimes became the very same victims as the men they tried to save. Too many of them were brought in on gurneys themselves, struck by weapons of enemy soldiers not yet deceased.

The hospital teams as well. The selfless, tireless group that tended to the injured and either assisted in bringing about regeneration or sending them into restorative comas worked endlessly and without complaint as each new capsule arrived. They stood quietly and with gentle reverence as they faced lindos-filled waves almost every half hour. So many times, she’d watched a worn out doctor or nurse drop their face mask and exhale a glittering breath of amber after yet another regeneration of one of their patients. Rose never asked if that much exposure would do them any harm, and if it did they never backed out or away from a soldier in need.

They did, however, test her levels on a daily basis with a quick scan of a sonic wand. She’d receive quick and relatively painless shots in her arm almost every other day. She assumed they were inoculations of some form and never questioned it. She was the only non Gallifreyan person on site, after all. And it certainly seemed that her health and wellbeing were considered to them as high a priority as the soldiers’ were.

A fortnight prior, they had begun to teach her how to assist with some of the more simpler cases. Things that needed to be done, but were being set aside for treatment on more urgent cases. She could now help clean wounds, stitch where necessary, and change IV and waste bags. She would feed those who couldn’t quite feed themselves, and sometimes just sit, listened, and provided comfort to those who simply needed to talk it out and prepare for what was to come next.

Fairly minimal support, in her mind, when compared to what everyone else was doing, but important non-the-less. Sometimes that hand to hold for that one fleeting moment was enough to get a man through it. She was happy to offer him that simple affection…

… And of course, it meant that she now had several pen pals out in the field from non-mated soldiers just looking for a little bit of friendly chatter. It became an evening ritual with her children watching the holovids and hypercube messages from them, and then making a message of their own to send back. Young Mark was always an enthusiastic chatterbox on each message, whereas little Alirra was typically silent throughout the recording. Her input was usually toward the end of the message where she would pull her pacifier from her mouth, pucker up soggy little lips, and blow a kiss to whomever was receiving the message.

Refugees were amongst the others who Rose was viewing with eyes of respect. The vast majority of them didn’t think twice about jumping into service. They’d scheduled themselves roles of cooking, cleaning up, babysitting, amongst other duties. It seemed to pull them from their own sorrows and gave them purpose. It was remarkable, really. Rose hoped, as she watched the various classes come together with shared purpose, if the return to Gallifrey might lend to a much different overall society, where all peoples were respected and welcome – a complete absence of hatred and discrimination.

That would be the dream, wouldn’t it? 

She quietly sang John Lennon’s Imagine as she removed her gloves and dropped them into a waste receptable near the doorway. Her day was half done, already, and she was ready to grab a quick bite to eat and take the weight off her feet for a moment. She was pulling the mark down underneath her chin when she caught sight of young Carein. The precious young woman was face down over the kitchen table, her arms circled around her head and used as a pillow, sleeping soundly. Papers filled with the circular texts of the Time Lords, and the almost hieroglyphic texts of simple Gallifreyan were scattered around her. While she suspected that it was still in the chaotic yet organised system that Carein used for her paperwork, the table did look a frightful mess.

Rose pulled at the front of her mask to rather painfully snap the elastic straps from around her ears. She gave a little wince at the snap, and tossed the mask into another receptacle. “Carein,” she called softly as she gave a gentle shake of the young woman’s shoulder. 

Carein slowly stirred. She let out a moan and slapped her tongue against the roof of her mouth as her eyes blinked with confusion. “Wha?” She asked as she wiped the drool from her mouth with the back of her hand. She lifted her head and looked toward Rose with an expression of groggy question. “Rose?”

“I think you need some rest,” Rose said with a gentle rub at Carein’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go upstairs and use the spare room. There’re enough people here right now to pick up the slack. Today’s capsules have already been and gone. No more expected until tomorrow.”

She shook her head with a wince of exhaustion. “Can’t,” she bleated tiredly. “Got so much to do.”

“Which can wait,” Rose half ordered her. “You haven’t slept for more’n a week. Please, take a minute. Go upstairs and use my spare room.”

“Your living quarters are off limits,” she said through a yawn. “I’ll be okay.”

“I insist,’ Rose said in a demanding tone of voice. “You need a break, so go upstairs. Power-nap it if you have to or sleep the rest of the day off.” She sighed and lowered her voice to one of caring. “Please, Carein. You’re no good to anyone in this state.”

“I’ll try not to take offence to that,” she muttered in reply. She stood up though, and briefly held herself with her hands braced on the tabletop. “But you are correct. I have pushed my sleep schedule on this round.”

“You’re always pushing the ladies to maintain their schedules, Carein,” Rose warned her. “You need to do the same.” She gestured toward the hallway. “At least up there no one will bother you.”

Carein have a small laugh. “You probably won’t see me for a week, then.” She put her hand on Rose’s shoulder as she slowly walked past her. “Thank you.”

“Top of the stairs, second on the left,” Rose said. “Next to the bathroom. Shower if you need to, the towels on the rack are clean.”

Rose watched her disappear into the hallway to make sure that the young woman did as she was told. Once sure that Carein was gone and not coming back any time soon, she wandered to her kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. She’d barely begin preparation when she felt a tug at her skirt. It wasn’t the gentle tug of her child wanting her attention, nor the tug of her skirt getting caught on something. This was a tug of urgency that begged not to be ignored.

“What is it?” she asked softly as she took a look downward. Her brows lifted to find her female wolf at the other end of her skirt. Tiallu pulled and tugged in such a manner as to garner attention, but not to damage the fabric – which Rose was thankful for. This dress was a gift from one of the refugee artisans, and she didn’t want to have to explain it’s ruin by Dahrama’s wanting attention. She crouched and petted the animal’s head.

“What’s wrong, Tia?” she asked softly as her hand moved to the wolf’s belly. “You’re not usually so insistent. Is your little one ready to make it’s presence?”

They were on watch for that, for the birth of the cub. There were disagreements between animal specialists from Arcadia, the Captiol, and the Outerlands. All of them had a separate opinion on when the cub was due and were therefore eagerly waiting for news of the birth if only to score bragging rights. None of them anticipated the cub’s arrival any time within the next couple of weeks. It wouldn’t surprise her all that much that Tiallu and Soliarn would find someway of birthing their child early just to spite the lot of them … so maybe this was it? How exciting!

Tiallu released the tender hold she had on Rose’s skirt and gave a quiet huff. She walked around the counter, pausing to ensure that Rose was following her. Seeing Rose still in a crouch, Tiallu let out another huff, this time full of impatience.

“Okay, okay,” Rose said with a smile. She stood up, bracing her hand on the counter for a couple of seconds at the swirl in her head from standing too quickly. It was over shortly and Rose gave her wolf a nod to let her know she was on her tail. “Let me know if I need to sterilise some towels and boil some water.” She pressed her finger to her bottom lip. “Might check in with the vets and see if we can get you an epidural or something. Trust me, darling, that makes all the difference in the world.”

Oddly, Tiallu led Rose toward the doors that led toward the capsule materialisation pad in the back yard. She and Braxiatel had put together a really nice and comfortable bed in the living room for her to have her cub in. It took the poor lad quite a while (and two bottles of wine, neither of which he drank from a glass, which was probably the key issue) to read the instructions to put it together. He’d be right miffed if Tiallu decided to choose another spot for her big day.

She readied to make a remark on that, and to plead with her wolf to reconsider her birthing location, but stopped when she saw Tiallu’s mate curled in a protective ball on the hard packed soil that used to be grass, just shy of the materialisation pad. Against his belly and in the warm protection of blue-white fur sat a child barely older than a year old. Her tiny face was streaked with mud and tears, her hair matted and damp with the same.

“Oh my God.” The words were out from between her lips before she realised it. She jogged quickly toward Soliarn and dropped onto her knees at his side. “what happened to you, you precious little darling?”

Soliarn looked toward Rose and gave a deep huff, a sound that quite effectively expressed his displeasure in a youngster being left alone like this. He stood up and shook himself from nose to tail and kicked at the dirt with his back paws as he followed behind his mate back into the house. Rose took little notice of her wolf’s obvious annoyance, although she did say her thanks to him under her breath as he departed.

The little one whimpered and sniffed wetly when her protective furball got up and left, but she held her arms upward when Rose reached out to pull her up into her arms and against her chest. 

“Oh you poor darling,” Rose cooed as she slowly drew to a stand. “Where are you parents, then? Hmmm?” She held the little girl with practiced firmness and walked around the small area where other refugees were milling about on their own tasks. “Does anyone know where her parents are?” she called out. When she received no answer, she stopped people to ask again. Noone, it seemed, could answer the question about the little one.

“Well I’m not leaving you here,” she said to the child in a soft voice. “So how about I take you inside and get you cleaned up? Maybe if they can see your pretty face free of all this dirty mud and snot, they’ll have a better idea about who you belong to.”

Her head was high, but looking around her as she strode into her kitchen and moved toward the sink. She grabbed a paper towel and wet it under the tap, immediately wiping the youngsters face.

Tiriah, one of the ladies that assisted Carein in her duties, strode into the kitchen, her clipboard in one hand, and a piece of half-eaten fruit in the other. She took a bite of the fruit as she scanned the names on the board.

“Tiriah,” Rose called to her from across the counter. “Can I see you a minute?”

“Of course,” Tiriah said with a smile. “What can I do for you…” Her face lengthened with adoration at the tiny child in Rose’s arms. “Oh sweet Goddess, what an adorable little lady.” Her eyes lifted to Rose’s and almost twinkled with delight. “Have you now taken on child duties as well, Lady Rose?”

“Please, I’m not a lady,” Rose corrected with a smile. “And my entire life right now involves child duties as you call it.” Her smile fell toward contemplation. “Of course, when I’m not working in the med unit, or preparing meals, or assigning living quarters…”

“I refer to the nurture and care of a refugee child,” Tiriah clarified. “That’s usually the responsibility of the refugee parents and elders.” She looked down to her clipboard. “What’s the child’s name? I’ll locate her parents and have them come for her care.”

“I don’t know,” Rose answered. She snapped another paper towel from the holder and wet it under the tap. She gave it a squeeze and returned to cleaning the little girl’s face. “My Dahrama’s found her on her own.” She smiled with wide eyes and cheek as she looked into the little girl’s face and bopped her lightly on the nose with the towel. “Nearly got adopted by the wolves, didn’t you, little one? Imagine that, they’d have you howling and huffing just like them.”

The little girl gave a smile and a giggle and reached up both hands to grab at the moist paper towel. She lifted it to rub at Rose’s cheek in much the same manner Rose had done with her.

Tiriah watched with wide eyes. “We did receive notification of a small child travelling alone in the capsule this morning,” she revealed. She looked down at her clipboard and flicked up a couple of pages. “Picked up from a small village near Mount Perdition. One of only a handful of survivors of a Dalek attack.”

Rose’s eyes widened. “Tell me she didn’t lose her parents.”

Tiriah’s expression was apologetic. “I’m afraid that’s quite likely. We have a few youngsters who need to be rehomed because of the loss of both parents, most of them quite a bit older than your little one.” She set the clipboard on the table and walked around with her hands out to accept the child. “Give her to me, Rose, and I’ll locate the other survivors from her village. See if we can have her homed with familiar faces.”

Rose held onto the child just that little bit tighter. “Ehm, how about she stay with me for now until you can find someone to take care of her.” She shifted the child to her other hip. “She’s already been lost in the shuffle today, I’d really prefer that it didn’t happen again.”

“I can assure you that it won’t,” Tiriah vowed, her arms still held out for the child. “This is not a responsibility you need to take,” she said to her with mild warning in her tone. “You already have two of your own who require your attention and affections. We can’t possibly burden you with another.”

The little girl looked at the hands that were reaching for her and shook her head. She turned her face into Rose’s shoulder and tightened tiny little arms around her neck. Her rejection was vocalised with a whimper, sniffle, and a cry.

Rose gave Tiriah a smile. “Looks like our little one has made her decision.” She held the chid with a hand on her back. “Once you’ve found a place for her, let me know. In the meantime, I’ll care for her.”

“I’ll have to let the Cardinal know of this decision,” Tiriah answered with worry. “He’s already cautioning about your current workload. He won’t like this.”

“I’ll handle him,” she assured her with a smile. “If he gets all upset, then you tell him that I told you to come talk to me before givin’ any of you a hard time about it.” She swayed from side to side in a dance without music and looked down into the tiny little face of the girl in her arms with a playful, exaggerated expression intended to make her giggle. When the child did just that, Rose looked back to Tiriah. “I’m going to take her upstairs and give her a quick bath and a change of clothes.” She walked away and paused. “Oh,” she sang out with a turn in her walk to face her. “If you’re looking for Carein, I sent her upstairs for a sleep.”

“Oh thank you,” Tiriah breathed out gratefully. “That poor woman is working herself into the ground. I’ll let the others know.”

Rose turned and carried the youngster upstairs, all the while holding her little hand and chatting a gentle coo to her.

~~oooOOOooo~~

It took approximately seven minutes and thirty seven seconds for Braxiatel to appear in the doorway to the bathroom – just enough time for Rose to prepare the bath and gently place the little child in the bubbly water. Dressed in a deep blue oxford shirt rolled up to the elbows paired with a black pair of tailored trousers that had become his style of late, he leaned against the doorframe on his shoulder. He crossed his legs at the ankle and folded his arms across his chest in a relaxed manner.

“Heard you just adopted yourself an orphan child,” he said with slight humour in his tone. 

“Just looking after her for now until she can be properly cared for,” Rose corrected him using a tone that wouldn’t upset the child but would indicate to him that she wasn’t entirely impressed with the circumstances behind the youngster being found. “She was just left there, Brax. All alone.” She looked toward him. “The wolves found her,” she told him with a pinch in her brow. 

He pushed himself off the doorframe with a shrug of his shoulder and walked into the bathroom to join her. He took a seat on the toilet beside the bath. “An embarrassing oversight,” he admitted. “Although, imagine if you hadn’t gotten to the wolves in time. We’d have a real wolf child..”

“Already made that joke,” Rose said with a laugh. “As usual, behind the ball on that one.”

“In my defense,” he said with a chuckle. “I only found out about their involvement approximately 3-point-four seconds before I tried to tell said joke. What was your response time?”

Rose leaned forward and drew her arm along the back of the child to hold her as she wet her hair to give it a wash. “How many?”

“How many what?”

“How many babies and children have lost their families to this war?”

He inhaled deeply. “Please don’t ask me that question, Rose. I really don’t want to upset you with the answer.” He exhaled loudly and then drew in another breath. “Just know that those who are without parents right now have been taken into care and will be well looked after.”

She lightly rubbed shampoo into the youngster’s hair. “Are you guys making any headway at all toward ending this war?”

He slowly shook his head. “The Daleks…” He paused to breathe a few defeated breaths. “They’re relentless. They have yet to take Arcadia, which is promising. Our troops have been able to hold them back for now, but its all now just a matter of time until they break the barricades.”

“And the Doctor?” Her voice had a waver of worry. “How is he?”

“Just as relentless as they are,” he answered. “Thete’s on the front lines last I heard. Holding his own well enough.”

“The soldiers that come through here speak of him like he’s a legend,” Rose said softly as she poured water over the child’s head to wash it of shampoo. 

“The Daleks are terrified of him,” Braxiatel agreed. “Yet at the same time his capture, and indeed his death, seems to be their primary objective. Where there is word of his location, the Daleks quickly follow.”

“Keep him away from Arcadia,” Rose determined. “Then perhaps the Daleks won’t go near it.”

“I agree. It certainly does seem that as long as Thete’s away from Arcadia, then so will the Daleks.” He scratched at his head. “But Rassilon seems to believe that we should pull all the troops in toward the citadel to fortify it. Damn fool. For a mighty warrior legend, he’s not being too bright during this war.” 

“Perhaps he feels it’s an unwinnable battle.”

“Quite frankly, Rose, I agree.” He leaned down with his elbows on his knees. “I can’t see any way at all that we can succeed here. The Dalek numbers greatly outnumber our own. I’m beginning to believe we can’t win this.”

“Bad Wolf says it’s winnable,” Rose corrected. “she insisted that Gallifrey and her peoples will survive the war and live on.” She looked up at him with determination in her eyes. “I gave him up, Brax. I let her take my children’s father from them. I left my home and hurt my children with the promise that Gallifrey will be victorious.” She panted just lightly, emotion staining her voice. “You have to believe in that, because I do.” She sat the little girl up to let her play with the bubbles in the bath a moment. “He will make sure that Gallifrey is the victor in this war. So if you’re going to believe in anything, believe in _him_ , yeah? Believe in your brother, because I have to tell you. Right now, he’s the only thing I believe in.”

“You’re asking me to put all of my faith in Thete?” His eyes widened and he blew out a breath. “Tough ask, Rose.”

“I’ll believe for us both, then.” She booped the child’s nose with her fingertip to brush off some bubbles. “And I’ll believe for you, too, little lady.”

He slid off the toilet and dropped down to his knees at her side. He leaned his elbows along the edge of the bath to watch the youngster gleefully playing in the water, slapping at the bubbles and then laughing in hysterics. “She is rather delightful,” he conceded. “I think Alirra will adore her.” He kissed her on the temple. “And speaking of, do you object to me doing the school run this afternoon? I’ve had a hard couple of years without seeing them and would really appreciate the extra time.” He slid his hand into his trouser pocket. “I’d like to take them out for icecream if you don’t object and cite that it might interfere with their dinner.

Rose looked up at him. “Two years since your last visit?”

“Near enough,” he said as he drew up to a stand. He then rubbed his chin. “Closer to three if I’m being honest.”

“I’ll prepare a later meal then,” she said with a smile. “Will you be staying?”

He nodded. “Romana will be here a little later. We hope to spend a few days in this timeline linear to you and the children if that’s agreeable with you.”

“It goes without saying,” she said with a smile. She pulled the little one out of the water and immediately wrapped her in a big fluffy pink towel. “What do you think?” she asked her gently as she held her against her chest and bounced lightly. “Are we okay with Uncle Brax and Auntie Romana sticking around for a few days? How long do you think it will take for you to wrap your big, bad, no-nonsense uncle around your little finger, hmmm?”

He looked over her shoulder and moved a hand in to use a finger to pull the towel from her face to take a look at her. A little tiny hand quickly grabbed hold of his finger and held tight. He let out an almost immediate moan of defeat. “They have power these little ones, don’t they? Mystical magical powers.”

“Only because you’re a right sap,” she teased.

“Tell anyone and I’ll vehemently deny it,” he growled playfully. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Which falls to the wayside as soon as Alirra’s within arm’s reach. They all know you’re like putty in her hands.” She cuddled her little bundle to keep her warm. “Now I’m going to find her some of Alirra’s old clothes, see if anything fits. Be warned that I currently have one of the staff sleeping in the spare room. When she wakes, I’ll change the sheets and get everything ready for you and Romana. So leave any luggage you might have in your capsule for now.”

“Hadn’t yet planned to move anything up stairs as yet. I was accosted the moment my capsule materialised by young Tiriah fretting about the new addition to your family.” He lifted his head to take another peek at the child. “Poor Thete. If this keeps up he’ll end up coming home to an entire army of children.”

“Would you like to hold her, Brax?” Rose offered.

“Nope,” he answered, his arms shifting behind his back. “I’m good.”

“Of course you are,” she breathed out with a chuckle. She stepped into the hallway to move toward Alirra’s room. She bumped into Romana along the way, immediately issuing apology. “Sorry, Romana. I. I’ll chat with you in a minute. I’ve got to get this little one dried and dressed before she catches a cold.”

Romana waited in the doorway, her eyes wide on Rose disappearing down the hallway with a pink bundle in her arms. She waited until she felt Braxiatel’s presence beside her to speak. “That was not Alirra,” she managed in lieu of greeting.

“No,” he confirmed with a smile. “But I believe her to be a new addition to the family Lungbarrow. An orphan of the war. Rose insists it’s only a temporary measure, however it’s quite clear that the affection is already there.”

“For her, Braxiatel, or for you?” she asked with a low chuckle.

He chose not to answer that. Instead he stepped forward and then turned to speak to his wife face to face. His expression fell toward seriousness. “The next few days will be tenuous ones, Romana. Have you ensured the necessary safeguards for our family and the people in sanctuary here?”

She nodded firmly. “Everything that needs to be in place is, and we do have a supporter within council who is doing what she can to prevent total disaster.” She blew out a breath. “but you know as well as I do, Brax. Dealing with that mad man…”

He nodded. “Dealing with the both of them, you mean.” His breath flew out of him with worry. “And I have to admit that it’s worrying that when I refer to a mad man, I’m not talking about my brother.”

“Terrifying to think that of all of them, he’s the sane one.”

~~oooOOOooo~~


	72. Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new house of Lungbarrow received an unexpected visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SQUEEEEEEEEE!!! I love you guys, and love the conversations taking place. Keep it up! Keep it up! I love reading your thoughts and recommendations, and don't care at all that it's got nothing to do with my fic. Keep coming together like you are and having your discussions. 
> 
> Course I love hearing your thoughts on the fic as well... wink.
> 
> We are on the home stretch now. I'm sorry that I didn't give you Stolen Earth and Journey's End like some of you suggested. It didn't quite fit with my universe, and it would add only trauma to Rose's home that I wouldn't be able to shield any of them from. Although, an army of refugees coming together to defend their sanctuary might've been a neat scene to write.
> 
> But I did hear the other comments about introducing/adding a couple of former companions ... and what makes it awesome is that I can totally use them both in a groovy way that solves a legit problem I was struggling to overcome in the outcome of End of Time. Got that problem solved thanks!
> 
> Anyway. A short one today because I struggled with this chapter. I couldn't figure out how to get into it, and a story that involves all of our players for once... Hope this sparks some interest.

~~oooOOOooo~~

There was terror in the eyes of the soldier laid down on the gurney below her. His grip on her hand tightened toward painful, but Rose wasn’t going to let go of him. She leaned down at his side, over his chest, to shield his view from the doctor and nurse that were furiously working behind her. Tears fell from her eyes at his struggle to see past the shield of her chest, desperate to see just what damage had been done to his legs.

“Look at me,” she urged him with tender firmness. She leaned over him further, making sure to block his view of his legs completely. “Soldier, please. Look at me. Right here.”

His eyes flicked to hers. He was propped up on his elbows that tore and slipped against the paper that had been stretched along the gurney. “I need to know what they’re doing?” He demanded with a hiss through his teeth. He was obviously battling incredible pain and let out a shuddering moan as he dropped back into the paper-covered pillow. “Rassilon, this hurts.”

Rose stroked at his hair, her thumb tracing a tear that fell from the corner of his eye. She looked up to a nurse dressed in the purple heliotrope scrubs of the Patrexan order. The pretty young woman gave her a nod as she emptied a syringe of medication into the IV bag. She looked down at the soldier. “The pain meds should kick in soon. For now, please focus on me, okay?” His eyes shifted back to her, and she smiled widely behind her mask. “That’s right. Hello.”

“I can only see your eyes,” he remarked with a light breathiness. “The rest of you’s covered in a mask.” His eyes flicked to the others in the room. “Just like the rest of them.”

Rose immediately tugged at her mask, shoving it underneath her chin. Despite the bite of the elastic against the crease of her ears, she maintained a smile. “There you go. Hope it’s not too disappointing.”

His smile was warm and kind, yet marred by the stain of pain and fear in his eyes. “You’re the Lady Rose,” he remarked. “I’ve heard of you from the other returnees.”

“Not exactly a lady,” she answered back with a softer smile. “And don’t believe a word they say – unless it all complimentary and makes me sound awesome, then believe every word.” She leaned forward to hold his hand against her chest and took a quick look back at the soldiers legs and the work being done to repair the damage. She held back the wince as she turned back to face him. Her hand moved to stroke at his hair with tender movements. “You know my name, Soldier. What’s yours?”

“They call me Hernian,” he answered with a writhe in his shoulders.

Her eyes shifted to the metal tray at his side, and to the photograph of a pretty young woman holding a young child that was tucked underneath a large pair of tweezers. She leaned across to retrieve the photo, admiring it for only a second, and held it to him. “Your mate?”

He nodded quickly, his brows falling into a deep crease. “Camealia,” he answered with an affectionate smile. He didn’t take the photo from her hands, but he looked at it with longing. “And our child, Jethis. loomed two years before the war began on Gallifrey.” He looked toward her with a shake in his head. “I haven’t seen them in three centuries. I don’t even know if they’ve survived this far.” He winced and writhed. “There’s almost nothing left there to shelter anyone from the destruction.”

Rose’s eyes flicked to Carein, who was passing by in that moment, a clipboard in her hands. “Carein? Would you mind?”

Carein nodded quickly. She leaned down to him from the opposite side to Rose and held her clipboard against her chest. “Hernian,” she spoke softly. “Can you give me their last known area of residence? Let me see if I can find some information on them for you.”

“Southern Mountain region,’ he answered with a lift in his back and a roll in his shoulders. “Near Covradvev.” He looked at her with desperation. “Please, my Lady, anything you can find on them.”

Carein petted his shoulder. “I’ll see what I can do.” She looked to Rose. “First wave was from that area, and were taken early.” She held her hand down toward her hip, indicating that if his mate and child were retrieved at that time, then not even a year had passed for them and his child was indeed still a child.

God, she hoped so.

With Cerain’s departure, Rose shifted back to keeping the young man’s attention away from the Doctors. She could hear the hopeless clicking of tongues and mumbled words that suggested much of the damage wasn’t repairable.

“What are they saying?” he barked out loudly, lifting back up onto his elbows. “Lady Rose, what did they say?”

“I told you,” Rose corrected with gentle urgency. “Not a Lady. Just Rose. Just plain old ordinary Human Rose.” She stroked his face and urged him to settle back down. “They’re doing what they can, Hernian. Trust them. Talk to me. Tell me about you, about your family.”

“They want to take my leg,” he said with a whimper. “Don’t they?”

She tutted gently. “Now that wasn’t what I asked from you, love. Don’t worry about them, right now. Tell me about you and your family.”

His eyes flashed up with fear. “If they take my leg,” he said with panic. “then she won’t…. No,” he looked up at her with a pinch in his brow. “Then I’m no good to them.”

“Don’t’ be daft,” she corrected him. “Of course you are. Many brave men, and also brave women, do very well with only one leg.” She held his hand tightly with both of hers against her chest. “And they are loved, Hernian. So very loved.”

“On your world, maybe” he answered pathetically. “I’m not from Earth.”

Rose hummed without taking offence to that. There was no sense in arguing, although she wanted to. She couldn’t’ imagine his horror, and just what pains and thoughts were running through his mind as he pictured the rest of this life and how he could possibly manage with the loss of a limb. All she could do, then, was try and offer silent support and hope that Carein could locate his family … perhaps they could provide him with the hope and support he needed that she was unable to provide.

The doctor walked up from the bottom of the gurney. She wiped her bloody gloves on a towel and then threw that towel into a laundry bin with a flick of her hand. It was an expression of apology that hid behind a green face mask, revealed when she decided to remove her mask. The mask was clutched in her fingers as she leaned down on the gurney with both hands on the mattress.

“Soldier Hernian,” she began with a fight against her own emotions. “I’m afraid that we’re unable to save your right leg. The damaged sustained by that mortar blast…” She shook her head. “It’s too great for even a restorative coma to repair.” Her eyes lifted briefly to Rose, her silent request to continue her support and hand holding. Her eyes fell again and shifted to look into his terrified eyes. “We are left with a few options: We can take the leg, severing it just above the knee…”

“Regenerate,” he barked out quickly.

“I didn’t get to that part,” the doctor said with light warning in her tone. “Don’t move ahead of me here. You have options, and rather viable ones at that. Regenerating is rather low on your list of options.”

“I can’t get back out there and fight with only one leg,” he shot back sharply. “This war is not over yet, and they need me out there, doctor.”

She shook her head. “You’ve done your duty, soldier. Time for you to take a rest.” She looked behind and around her in a grand gesture. “There are plenty of good men and women here who will be fit to fight on your behalf, and will do so with honour.”

“But…!”

“We have some of the best technicians in the universe,” she continued. “Who will provide you with a prothesis of the highest quality. With some rehabilitation and retraining, you won’t even realise that you have lost your leg.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t waste a regeneration on this.”

He took his hand from Rose’s and lifted both his hands to his hair as he arched back on the gurney and let out a cry. 

The doctor paused a moment to let the man cry out. When he settled back down and drew his hands from his hair to cover his face, she let out a sigh of empathy. “It’s not ideal, and I understand that. But soldier,” she touched his shoulder again. She readied to speak again and lifted her eyes to the doorway, where Carein stood with a woman and a youngster. She shot a look toward the nurse at the end of the bed. “Cover him up,” she demanded in a firm order that was hissed through her teeth. “Hide the damage.”

Rose’s eyes widened with initial confusion. Realisation quickly dawned and she twisted to look over her shoulder. Her eyes met Carein’s and then shifted to the woman and child from the photograph. Her head flicked back to the doctor. “She found them.”

The doctor looked down to her patient with a smile. “How about you talk it over with your mate,” she offered gently. “Decide _together_.”

His head rolled to look around Rose. His face creased immediately with emotion. He rolled onto his side and held out his arms. “Camealia,” he called out. “My hearts!”

Rose stepped back and out of the way with surprising speed as the woman and her child broke into a run toward the gurney. Her hands flew to her mouth and she choked back a tear watching Hernian struggle to lift himself up to receive his mate’s embrace. Barely tall enough to see over the top of the gurney, his young boy skipped on his feet, jumping up and down and crying as he called for his papa. His father answered his please by leaning down over the edge of the gurney to touch at the head of his boy.

A tearful reunion of a long parted family. For all of the joy and gladness for felt for them - and she was truly glad for them - she couldn’t help but think of her own family and the reunion she was starting to believe was never going to happen. Her heart in her throat, Rose turned on her toe and walked out of the capsule. Blinded by her own emotion, she collided with an unfamiliar woman waiting in the doorway. She offered a distracted apology and walked out into her kitchen. She inhaled deeply in an attempt to suppress her own emotion, but only ended up teetering over to the side of breakdown. She covered her belly with one arm, her mouth with the other, and took herself from the scene completely, heading into her living room. She had hoped it would be empty, and that she’d be able to school her emotions in private. She had no such luck, however. Braxiatel was seated in the centre of the couch. His hand covered his chin and his glasses hung down low on the end of his nose as he leaned forward to read documents spread out along the coffee table. He had a glass of scotch in one hand, and a pen in between the fingers of the other. Romana was seated in what looked to be a brand new and awfully comfortable rocking armchair bottle-feeding the newest edition to the family Lungbarrow who was laid across her lap. She sang softly to the youngster as the chair glided back and forth, watching her suckle with gentle admiration.

Rose didn’t want to step inside this image of happy domestication. So she held her hand more tightly against her mouth to hold back everything including breathing, and slowly backed into the hallway. Once again, she found herself colliding with a woman, and this time took the time to apologise properly.

“I – I’m very sorry,” she managed out. She raked her fingers through her hair and backed up a few steps. “That’s twice I’ve done that to you. I promise you it’s not intentional.”

The woman gave her a smile of caring and perhaps understanding. “Oh no harm done. I can see you’re distracted right now.” She touched a hand to Rose’s shoulder in a tender gesture. “This is more than anyone should ever have to see … especially when one has already sacrificed so much.”

Rose’s mouth shifted to a small and very rueful smile. “I haven’t sacrificed nearly as much as all of them have,” she stated. “They’re fighting for my world just as much as their own. I should be doing a lot more than I am.”

“Oh I don’t know,” she said softly. “I think you’re doing far more than you give yourself credit for.”

Rose’s brows pinched together in both curiosity and concern. She didn’t know this woman, yet she was acting quite tender and caring toward her. Did this woman know her, or was she simply just a kind woman? She did seem to be the tender looking young grandmother type. There were no harsh edges or lines in her face. No judgment or hostility in her eyes. Her hair wasn’t even pristinely or harshly cut and styled. In fact with red ends and greying roots and fringe, she looked to be in need of a quick touchup. Rose would have guessed she was a refugee, had she not been dressed in a crisp-white pantsuit.

“Who are you?” she asked after a moment. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced.” She held out her hand. “I’m…”

“Rose,” the woman said quickly. “Yes. I know who you are. Romana speaks quite highly of you.” She looked back behind her. “And of your efforts to assist out people.” She looked back. “And speaking of, can you tell me where I might find her?”

Rose gestured toward the living room. “She’s in there with the Cardinal. Would you like me to get her for you?”

The woman shook her head. “No, I’ll find her myself. No need for you to bother yourself.”

“It’s really no bother.”

The woman lifted her hand to touch at Rose’s cheek. When she drew back her fingers, they glistened with her tears. “If the Cardinal were to see these, then I fear it may upset him. Best that we don’t let him see you this way.”

“I appreciate it,” Rose said on a breath. She then thumbed to the door. “I’m going to collect my children. If Brax is looking for me, let him know I’ve stepped out for a minute. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

She watched with care in her eyes as Rose pulled on her jacket and grabbed a set of house keys from a glass bowl on a small table near the door. “Do be careful out there,” she warned in a motherly manner.

Rose pulled on a knitted hat. “Ahhhh, it’s only a ten-minute walk. What could happen?” Her eyes widened and she stilled. “God, now that I’ve said that. Maybe I’ll need an armed guard to come along with me.” She eyes flashed to the woman. “Don’t you dare tell Brax I made that comment, yeah?”

The woman laughed. “I won’t.” She watched Rose open the door and step outside. Once the door clicked shut, she walked toward the living room and stood quietly for a short moment in quiet watch. Her quiet and focused observation didn’t go unfelt, however. In under half a minute, Braxiatel lifted his eyes from his paperwork. He looked up over the top edge of his glasses at the woman, and then shot up to a stand, whipping the glasses from his face with a snatch of his hand.

“It can’t be,” he breathed out. His eyes were wide and full of horror that watched with caution as she finally broke from the door and stepped into the room.

“Hello Irving.”

He stepped around the couch, tripping to a stumble over the leg of the table, which jostled, but didn’t spill his glass of whisky. The sudden movement roused Romana from her peaceful doze with the child in her lap. She shuddered and called out to her husband with concern.

“Stay there,” he said quickly with a lift of his hand in a gesture for her to listen. He approached the woman and looked her over with scrutiny for a moment. “How? How are you here?”

“Well,” she sang out with facetious disappointment. “Nice to see that you’re happy to see me.”

“I would be,” he answered guardedly. He stood at a wary distance from her, with his chest slightly held backward. “If you hadn’t died eight hundred years ago.” His eyes narrowed and he finally levered his chest forward to look at her more closely. “It is you, correct? Mother?”

Romana lifted from the armchair, with the child held securely in her arms. “Mother?” she asked with as much shock as her husband. She walked toward him. “How is that possible?”

Braxiatel looked toward his wife with a look of frustration. “I thought I told you to stay there?”

“Would you listen to me if I said the same to you?” she asked with a smile. She waited a heartsbeat. “No. I didn’t think so.” She slowly shifted her gaze toward the woman. “Is this real? Are you his mother?”

She nodded lightly. “I’m afraid so.”

“But you died,” Braxiatel whispered low. “Father, Thete and I mourned your passing. We were barely inside our first centuries of life.” His eyes were pinched with slow rising fury. “How are you here? What did Rassilon do?”

“Your mind goes immediately to Rassilon, I see,” she said with a half laugh in her tone. It wasn’t a laugh of amusement, more one of knowing. “Which does seem to be the appropriate direction.”

“If it’s means to control my brother, which is likely given the prophesies…”

“More the knowledge that your brother now possesses the Moment,” she came back with a low voice. The name of the weapon had both Romana and Braxiatel hitch a breath of shock. She let out a breath of concern herself. “I see you’re familiar with it.”

“Intimately,” Braxiatel growled. “I just didn’t think we were at that point just yet.”

“I’m not quite sure what point your referring to,” the woman answered back flatly. “Thete’s had the weapon for quite some time. He stole it from the Arsenal almost a century ago and hid it in his TARDIS.” She held out her arms in a wordless request to hold the child in Romana’s arms. “Is she yours, Irving?”

He shook his head, although he did look at the child with warm eyes when she was passed along. “No. This youngster is an orphan from the war that Rose has chosen to care for. Romana offered to watch over her while Rose was with the medical teams.”

The woman held the child with a practiced hold and bounced in a light sway. “Orphans need parents, too,” she cooed softly. “Permanent ones.”

“I imagine that’s Rose’s intention,” Braxiatel answered. “I’m not entirely sure Thete will be onboard as he does appear to prefer siring them himself.” He reached out a hand to stroke the child’s hair. “Though he is a dedicated enough father that he has room in his hearts to spare.”

“My understanding is that you’ve been as dedicated to their care as their father would be.”

“I see them once or twice a year in my timeline,” he admitted with a shrug as though he really didn’t want to admit that it he really cared all that much. His lips pressed tightly together a moment watching the little girl in the arms of his mother, and then he quickly snapped his hands forward to take her from her. “Here. Let me take her if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t,” she said with a laugh. 

He settled with the child in his arms and his face softened. “So have you been resurrected?”

“Extracted,” she stated with an expression of unease. “Not resurrected. Rassilon wouldn’t allow that to happen.” 

Both Romana and Braxiatel’s eyes widened at that revelation. Braxiatel looked hurt by it. “Caught between your two last heartbeats, Mother? He can’t have done that to you – it’s cruel.” His brows knitted together. “And why would he do that? For what purpose?”

“I’m not even sure that he knows,” she admitted dryly. “Rassilon has gone insane. Mad with power, considers himself no less than a God.” She swallowed dryly. “And with the technology of the most gifted scientific minds across Kasterborous in his hands, he has the power of one at his disposal.” Her expression shifted to disgust. “He believes he holds authority over life and death, and orders death and extractions like one would order lunch. No member of council dares question or oppose him.”

“Except you,” Romana noted. “I’m guessing that you’re the member on council who is sympathetic to our cause to save what we can of Gallifrey?”

“I’m already dead,” she said with a wry smile. “What do I have left to lose?” She lifted her hand to touch her son’s cheek. “Except the opportunity to see my two young men all grown and creating families of their own.” Her smile fell, but not her hand. “Although I am confused about your brother and his family. She lives, as do his children, yet he behaves as though none of them exist.”

Romana looked to Braxiatel with a smirk. “I’ll let _you_ handle _that_ one.”

“That’s a really long and convoluted tale,” he said with a huff. “I suspect you’re short on time and don’t have the occasion to hear it. Short version is that in his timeline associated with this war, he doesn’t remember that they exist – a trade-off of sorts dating back about five or six centuries.” He swallowed thickly, speaking over it with a slight wince in his eye. “But the one more closely associated with her current timeline has recalled as much and is on the search for them.”

Her face stretched out. “And you don’t feel it prudent to let him know where they are?”

“Again,” he said with a wince. “Long story, Mother. When the timelines stabilise, then we will do our best to reunite them as quickly as possible.” He looked down at the gurgling child in his arms wth an affectionate smile. “And before she adopts an entire army of children.”

Romana caught the break in conversation between mother and son. “So, Lady…?”

“Call me Mum,” she offered with a smile. “As my son’s mate, it’s only right that you do.”

Romana looked quite uncomforted by that. She opened her mouth to remark, but thought better of it. Instead she opted to follow her original path of conversation. “I am going to suspect that your purpose for this visit wasn’t just a social call?”

“Clever girl,” she said with a smile. The smile fell quickly. “A social interaction was a blessing, but not my intention.” She led them both toward the couch. And gestured for them to sit. She spoke as she took a seat on an armchair. “Rassilon feels that we are approaching the end of our ability to properly continue defending Gallifrey from annihilation.”

“How long does he expect we can continue?” Romana asked as she took a seat on the couch and let Braxiatel sit on the rocker with the baby. “The most current projections that we’ve received from the Defence Council, we are looking at another decade minimum if we maintain our current strategies.”

She shook her head. “Rassilon believes that we’re down to mere days, not years.” She looked pained. “Have you heard of the ultimate sanction?”

Romana’s hands flew to her mouth in a gasp. “Please tell me he’s not.”

The woman nodded. “There is still resistance to it, but ultimately, that does seem to be his ultimate goal.”

“That’s the end of reality as we know it!” she half yelped. “And makes us no better than the Dalek forces our soldiers have been fighting against. It makes us _monsters_.”

The woman nodded slowly. “If Rassilon’s projections are correct, then the fortunate part of it is that there’s no time left for him to initiate the Ultimate Sanction and let the Time Lords rise as Gods.” She looked down at her hands. “There is still hope, however, in the eyes of Rassilon that Gallifrey can escape this war long enough that he can continue with this mad plan of his.”

“I don’t know that I want to hear this,” Braxiatel gruffed out, holding the child that little bit closer to him. “Rassilon’s grandiose plans are always rife with collateral damage and mayhem.”

“And this is no different,” she said with a sigh. “And this one, it threatens the Earth herself.”

He leaned forward. “Well you don’t hold back, do you, Mother. Straight to the heart of it. Of course do let me express my incredulity and say: I’m sorry, what did you just say?”

“He’s right,” Romana agreed. “Earth is nowhere near the war. There’s no need at all to involve this planet, or any of the neighbouring solar systems for that matter.” She looked to the doorway toward the kitchen and back. “Which is why this was chosen as the outpost for our traumatised and wounded peoples. Because it’s _safe_ and as far away from that Hell as possible.”

“And precisely why Rassilon intends on using Earth as a means to pull Gallifrey from the middle of the war.”

“Hold on,” Braxiatel barked with a lift of his hand. “He intends to use this planet as an anchor to pull Gallifrey across more than a million light years of space to…” He stopped to look at her with an expression of utter incredulity. The expression of incredulity then shifted toward an expression of faux acceptance. “you know what? You’re right. He’s gone completely mad…”

“Has he forgotten that the Earth is the planet that the Doctor will use any means available – and those that aren’t yet available but will be if the Doctor wants them to be – to protect?”

She nodded. “And quite likely the reason Rassilon chose it.” she looked to Braxiatel. “They’ve lost your brother somewhere across the universe. He has the Moment and they want it back. It’s the only way that Rassilon can invoke the Ultimate Sanction.” She inhaled deeply. “Rassilon can and will hold this planet hostage to get what he wants from him. And he’ll be using his former friend to do it, too.”

“The only one insane enough to go along with something like this,” Romana admitted. She leaned forward, dropping her head into her hands. “We had gotten word from our informants that we would be facing both the Master and Rassilon over the next few days. We had no idea in just what capacity that may be, just that the potential was there.”

“It’s why we stationed ourselves here the time being,” Braxiatel added. “To provide support to our people here, and make sure that the Master couldn’t get near Rose. He might not know of her existence as yet, but if for some reason he found out… he’d go after her.” He shuddered. “And if Thete is presented with his family in peril – he’ll give Rassilon exactly what he wants without a second thought.”

“Well,” the woman breathed out. “Then you best keep her and the children out of reach, Braxiatel. Because he’s already been resurrected. The plan has been initiated.”

Braxiatel nodded quickly. “So he’s already here. I thought we might have a day or so, but we’re okay. We’re in good standing.” He looked over his shoulder. “Rose is safe in the medical capsule…”

The woman lifted her face. “Ahh. No she’s not.”

Braxiatel’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry?”

“Rose left the house some time ago,” she replied carefully. “She was in a fragile state and opted to take a walk outside to collect her children. School, I will assume.” She looked to the kitchen. “Although I would guess that there are tutoring services available to her right here that would be better than the British Public School System.”

He rocked forward and then backward a single time. “School run. No, that’s what I was going to do.”

“Go get them,” Romana ordered him on a low voice. “Take the capsule … to hell with the people seeing a materialisation.”

Braxiatel grunted and lifted from the armchair. He quickly set the child in Romana’s arms, kissed his wife on the forehead and ran toward the hallway. “I’ll be right back,” he promised her. He then launched into a run toward the hallway and a steel cylindrical capsule parked against the wall. The door to the capsule closed with a slam behind him. 

“Just like his brother, isn’t he?” the woman remarked. “Always running off half-cocked.”

After a moment the door opened again, and Braxiatel wandered out of the ship with a sheepish expression on his face. He walked toward his mother and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “As I was reminded by my ship, it would be appropriate of me to tell you that it was a pleasure to see you again. And that I hope we have the opportunity to meet again.”

“And you too, my son.”

Braxiatel stood up and turned toward his ship. He held out his arms either side of him. “There! Are you happy? Can we go now?” He walked to the door and spun to take a look at the ladies in his life while he moved with a backward stride. “Romana, my hearts beat for you. Mother, you’re in them.”

Both women watched him with a smirk as he closed the doors behind him once more and the ship dematerialised with a heavy huff and whine.

“Yes,” Romana agreed. “He is very much like his brother. More than either of them would care to admit.” She then sighed and turned to her mother in law. “Now, I expect you have more to tell us.”

“I do,” she said. “And we’re going to need your help if what I’ve set in motion is going to succeed.”


	73. Angry Brax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose bumps into an old friend .. and Brax gets a little bit miffed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got some feedback that someone wanted this person to have a part in things. So I answered that request. :)
> 
> I'm still trying to wrap my mind around how to accomplish this whole scenario surrounding this episode. It's quite important to the plot of my wee tale, but it's really one of my favourite pairs of eps and I really don't want to have a hack at it... Hack being a rather apt term for me right now ... I;m hovering at the periphery right now until I van get it properly sussed as to how I want to handle it... Which will be tomorrow... 
> 
> God, we're getting close to the end here, believe it or not... Are you happy we're almost there?
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like a little angry Brax. 
> 
> Still loving the discussions, guys!! Keep it up .. and share those opinions!

~~oooOOOooo~~

It was actually a rather pleasant day outside for a walk for late December. Rose had discarded her knitted hat and stuffed into her pocket before she’d made it to the end of the walkway to the street. The sun was shining, birds were singing, neighbours were milling about happily. There was a warmth on the light breeze that made her smile and just embrace the sunshine and fresh air. For this moment – fleeting though it may be – she could let herself forget about the pain and suffering that had become her new norm.

She was very much as much selfish as she was selfless, and while she took honour and pride in helping with the war efforts as she was, she had more than one broken moment alone in the shower when she wished it was all over and she could return to normal. With or without her husband back in her life, she dreamed to return to a life where her only concerns were the safety and well being of her children. Attending PTA meetings and baking cakes for school fundraisers. Watching dance recitals and science fairs with her brilliant little man…

…And maybe have the opportunity to fall in love again? Cuddles and love of her children were wonderful and sorely needed affections after a long day, of course, that went without saying. But she desperately missed the tender love and affection of a man who adored her, where she could forget about existence entirely. It had been more than two years since she’d felt the touch of a lover, and it was torturous. There was only so much that she could do for herself, and it was hardly sating. 

Not really worth contemplation, really. She couldn’t imagine allowing any to touch her that wasn’t the Doctor. God. She needed him, and never more than at the end of a day where a soldier who could no longer regenerate was lost and then secured deep inside the medical capsule in stasis until he or she could be properly and respectfully honoured in the ways of their people. In those moments she needed to feel again and be reminded that she was alive and not merely existing.

She shielded her children from it as much as she could, but it wasn’t always possible. They could no longer play and laugh in their backyard. Their evening meals were now eaten around the coffee table in the living room rather than the dining room or kitchen. Bless those wonderful children of hers, though, they never complained. Mark often entertained them with storytelling from picture books and singing songs whilst dancing in his very unique and uncoordinated manner. Alirra was simply content to cuddle (with either her mother or her uncle) and watch her big brother entertain them with her wide and always intensely focused eyes. Sometimes she’d join him in a dance, but only if he held her hands to dance with her.

She needed a brief escape. She needed them to have a moment of joy as well. Just the three of them, out and about, and with joy and laughter. Just a moment. Just a small moment.

Cool, crisp and quite often rainy days didn’t grant them many opportunities to play at the local playground, and so with the sun shining overhead, and a warm breeze blowing in, she was going to take that moment. Her homestead could do without her for an hour or two. Without care to send a message to anyone t the house, lest an urgent request for her return blasted back in reply, Rose collected her children from school and daycare, and took them to the local park. She silenced her phone, stuffed it deep inside her pocket, and ignored every shake and vibration of it against her hip. Right now, her entire focus was going to be on her two precious children, their joy, and their laughter.

Of course the pair of them had almost immediately exhausted her. Mark was a fireball of energy on a good day, but out in the sunshine with swings and a playground built like a fort, it seemed to energise him all that more. Alirra, who had found her need to run a few months ago, was every bit as excitable as her brother. Hide and seek became a game of tag, which then became a competition between the two of them to hunt and stalk their mother. They took flank and attacked from both sides, gleefully taking her down to the ground in a heap of taunts and laughter and cheers of victory.

Rose had crawled out from the fifth pileup of the game on her hands and knees across the sands. She was covered in silt and silicone and finally waved her hand to the both of them asking for a moment. Almost immediately, she had two jackets thrown at her. The kids tore off into the fort with cheers of victory.

“Take a breath,” Mark called out. “I’ll watch Aly!” He paused to point a finger of warning to her. “But know this, Mum. When you get back in the game, there’ll no mercy.” He ran off with a deep throated laugh.

Rose hauled herself up to a stand and watched them a moment as she tried to catch her breath. She heard a squeal of excitement from her daughter and held their two jackets against her chest with delight. Alirra very rarely showed any type of glee or enthusiasm, to hear her so excitable now almost made her cry. She wiped at her eye with the sleeve of Alirra’s jacket and strode toward a bench at the very edge of the playground. She put the jackets off to one side as she sat in the centre of it and leaned a lazy and exhausted slouch against the back.

“Do you mind if I join you a moment?”

That was a voice that was very familiar to her. Rose shifted from her slouch and shielded her eyes against the sun as she turned to see who had spoken. Her face lit up to see the friendly gaze and gentle smile of one of the Doctor’s oldest friends. She immediately jumped up from the bench to eagerly embrace the woman.

“Sarah Jane,” she breathed out with far more gratefulness than was probably appropriate. “What are you doing here?”

Sarah Jane returned the embrace with less enthusiasm as Rose, but it was a warm and friendly greeting nonetheless. “A greeting like that leads me to believe you’ve become starved of attention,” she noted without judgement in her tone. She released Rose and shifted back only enough to be able to hold her arms and take a good look at her. “My, you’ve grown up, haven’t you?”

Rose chuckled as she hooked her hair behind her ear with a sweep of her hand. “Is that your polite way of telling me I’m getting old?”

“Nothing wrong with getting older,” she said with a smile as she sat them both down on the bench side-by-side. “Makes us wiser.”

“Although that wisdom has to come with wrinkles and saggy bits is a little unfair,” Rose sighed in reply. “Might be nice to be all tight and perky and wise at the same time.”

“Takes far too much effort to stay young and pretty,” Sarah Jane said with a shrug. “Takes time away from the more interesting endeavours.” She petted her knee. “How have you been? It’s been a while.” Her eyes drifted toward the children. “And it certainly seems that it’s been longer for you than me. Are they your children?”

Rose nodded with a glance toward the kids. “They are. Mark’s almost nine, Alirra’s three.” She looked back to Sarah Jane. “It’s been about thirteen years since our school hijinks. How long for you?” Rose asked softly.

“About three years,” she answered with a smile. “I’ve seen him – the Doctor – again in between when I saw you last and now. A couple of times, in fact.” She pursed her lips in thought. “I have to admit that it surprised me you weren’t still with him.” She looked at Rose curiously. “The affection I could see between you made me believe that you’d be with him at least through another regeneration.”

Rose’s response was a light and breathy laugh. “Not much affection between us,” she disagreed softly. “Pretty one-sided affection, really. Made me petty and jealous to see him pay you more affection than he did me.” She winced. “And I really should apologise to you for that. I wasn’t very nice to you.”

Sarah Jane laughed at that. Her eyes glistened in the sunlight and her hair bounced with the laughter. “Oh, Rose. I was just as jealous as you were. I’m not too ashamed to admit it. We were both catty toward each other.” She calmed and gave her a smile. “But we put it all aside and became good enough friends when it was all over, didn’t we?”

“We did,” she agreed.

“But I see that you didn’t take my advice,” she said almost sadly.

“What advice was that?”

“To stay with him,” she answered. “I told you that you should stay with him, and that you should find me if you didn’t.” She looked at the children playing a hybrid version of peek-a-boo and hide’n Seek. “Although it does appear that you’ve moved on in a way that no one before you has been able to. A family. Not too many of us end up with your happy family endings.”

Rose’s smile faltered at that. “Yeah,” she drawled along a very long exhale. 

Sarah Jane winced a little at the heartbreak within the drawl. “Oh. That doesn’t seem as positive as I was hoping for you. Their father…?”

“I’m a single parent,” Rose answered, unsure of how much more she should reveal. “Their father – my husband – was taken from us a little over two years ago.”

Sarah Jane set her hand on Rose’s knee. The apology in her voice was genuine. “I’m so sorry to hear that.” Apology turned to curiosity. “Have you tried to reach out to him, I mean the Doctor.”

“To what end?” Rose asked with her own level of curiosity seeding itself in her mind. “It’s not like he and I can travel together again – not with a pair of youngsters all eager to get into mischief.” It occurred to her at that moment just how true that comment was. Two young children travelling in a TARDIS with an adult child as their guide? Her eyes widened to almost worry. “Could you imagine it…”

Sarah Jane did have a laugh at the image of it. The laugh was short-lived, though, and her tone turned more cautious. “But it wouldn’t hurt for you to try reaching out to him, Rose. Let him know where you are, and that you’re safe.”

She nodded slowly with a bite of her lips as realisation dawned as to the sudden appearance of Sarah Jane, who was a very long way from home. She stiffened just a little with worry. “This isn’t exactly a random meet-up, is it?”

“What do you mean?” she asked warily. 

Rose shifted in her seat to face Sarah Jane properly, rather than talking with only a turned head. “You finding yourself here, in a random playground, bumping into me.” She became guarded. “Why are you here, really? And please don’t tell me you’re here by happy accident.”

“He’s looking for you,” She admitted on a breath. “The Doctor. Specifically, the incarnation of him that you travelled with when we met. He’s got a network of people trying to find you. UNIT and Torchwood are two of them. I heard the chatter over the subwave network and thought I’d try finding you as well.”

“D-Do you know why?” she stammered worriedly.

Sarah Jane shook her head. “No specifics on it, really. Just that he’s looking for you, and that if we find you we need to reach out to him.” She took a breath and wet her lips. “And if we can’t reach him, to find Jack Harkness or Martha Jones of Torchwood and UNIT respectively, and they’ll pass your location along.”

Rose shook her head. “You can’t tell him you’ve found me,” she half pleaded. “Please, you can’t. It’s not safe.”

“I had a feeling that’d be the case,” Sarah Jane said worriedly. “Which is why I wanted to see you for myself before I called him.”

“You can do that?” she asked with a wince in her brow. “Just pick up the phone and call the Doctor?”

“Both Martha and I can,” she said with a nod. “Of course, it’s not a line to have a friendly catchup chat or anything like that. Love the old boy, but he’s not really one for social calls.” She tilted her head to regard Rose with curious eyes. “Why is it he’s looking for you with such determination as to involve others, Rose? That’s very unlike him.”

“I really don’t know,” she lied with a shrug. 

“Why isn’t it safe if he does find you?” She lifted her chin a little. “I don’t have the technology that UNIT and Torchwood have. Just grit, determination, and an awfully powerful computer.” She caught Rose’s glance of worry. “If I was able to find you, they won’t be too far behind.”

Rose’s eyes flicked to the kids and then back to Sarah Jane. “It’s a really long story that doesn’t have a too-long-didn’t-read option to it.” She swallowed thickly. “Just that if he finds me’n the kids right now, before … before…” She faltered, not quite knowing how to properly articulate her thoughts. “He cant. He just can’t. It’s not safe.”

Her hand flew to cover her mouth and her eyes shot straight toward the youngsters on the playground. “Oh my god, Rose. He’s their father, isn’t he?”

“I should go,” she determined quickly. She lifted from the bench and leaned down to grab the children’s jackets. “It was really nice to see you again, Sarah Jane.”

Sarah Jane grabbed her wrist. She didn’t want to ask this question, but she felt it pertinent, especially if she was going to detract others from this search path. “Rose. I need you to tell me. Did he hurt you?” She looked to the playground. “Or the kids?”

Rose was horrified by the suggestion. Her eyes blew wide and she held an expression of disgust at the question. “Why would you even ask such a question? No. No of course not! He would never, ever, ever, even halfway think of hurtin’ any of us. The Doctor was the most loving and devoted husband and father, all that anyone could ever possibly hope for.”

Sarah Jane held up her hands with apology. “Sorry, Rose. I knew it was a tough question, but I had to be sure.” She looked up at her with desperate apology. “You say that seeing him is unsafe for you three, and that you don’t want him finding you. It was the only determination I could reach given your guarded responses.”

Rose covered her face with both hands. She panted a couple of times and then ran her hands down only low enough to let her see across the park to her children. Her hands remained over her nose and mouth as she watched her children play.

Sarah Jane drew herself to a stand and remained just slightly behind Rose. “I’ll see what I can do about getting the dogs off your scent, then.” She sighed, hard. “If you don’t want me to know just why it is that you don’t want to see him…”

“It’s not that,” Rose whimpered softly. “There’s nothin’ more I want in this whole universe than to be with him again. I miss him. Desperately. And the kids…” She shuddered. “They need their dad more’n anything.”

“But?”

“It’s us against the universe if we find each other too early,” she answered, wiping at a tear on her cheek. 

“You know as well as I do, that that’s a challenge he’ll rise to,” Sarah Jane offered.

“He can’t fight the Bad Wolf,” Rose whispered cryptically. “And she’s the one in control of it right now. Right bint that one…”

Sarah Jane stood in silence for a moment and tried to digest what Rose was saying … and the fact that the Doctor was not only a husband, but also a father. Neither of which seemed to suit the man at all … at least not the ones she knew.

“At the very least, can I assure him that you’re safe?”

Rose snorted and shook her head, letting her hands fall down to her sides. “You tell him that you know that much, Sarah, and he’ll be on you like flies to molasses to find out how much more you know.” She actually had a smile on her face when she turned toward her. “His brother describes him as sneaky and tenacious, and he won’t let up if he thinks you know something he doesn’t. Especially when it’s something he wants to know.”

She looked surprised a that revelation. “He has a brother?” She looked off to one side, her eyes wide. “My God, there’s two of them?”

“I know, right?” Her humour fell. “But please. I beg you. Don’t tell him where we are right now. Not till it’s safe. I won’t have the strength to walk away if I see him again, I know it.”

Sarah Jane placed a hand on Rose’s arm in a tender gesture. “Only if you promise me that when it is safe, that you’ll come to me, Rose,” she bargained softly. “Then we’ll find him together.”

“I have a feeling that he’ll find me long before I need to find you,” she said with a chuckle. “Sneaky and tenacious, remember. I think the moment the timelines stabilise, he’ll walk through my front door.” She blew out a breath of longing. “At least that’s what I hope will happen.” 

“With him, that wouldn’t be a surprise,” Sarah Jane agreed. “Just wish I’d be there to see it for myself, and to see that man truly happy.”

Rose’s eyes shifted toward a figure at the edge of the park. Not near the playground, but hovering at the outer edge of the park. Dressed in a black hoodie and pants, with hair so blonde it had to be bleached, he walked a pacing motion. He held himself with his arms as he walked, rubbing his hands up and down his arms.

One of the local addicts, she assumed. Still far enough away from the kids to only be a distraction rather than a danger, she kept him in her peripheral.

“So how about you, anyway?” She asked Sarah Jane in a more friendly manner. “All is good with you?”

“As good as I can be,” she answered with a shrug. “Busy, which is always good. But living a good life.”

“Making him proud,” Rose said with a smile. “Like only his Sarah Jane can.” Her expression shifted to a wince. “That probably came out wrong.”

Sarah Jane laughed. “Not at all. I knew what you meant, and yes. I’m making him proud. We all do.”

Rose paused as the man at the edge of the park shifted his pacing into the park itself. He now stalked with an almost purposeful gait toward them. He staggered in his stride, rubbing at himself and mumbling under his breath.

“Oh-kay,” she breathed out. “This could get messy.”

“What’s wrong?” Sarah Jane asked with some urgency. She looked around Rose in the direction that she was focused on. She saw the man and after a second, leaned forward as though to get a better look. “Oh my god,” she huffed. “How can that be? I thought he was dead?”

Rose looked between the direction of the man’s stalk, and then toward her children. “Mark!” She called out sharply. “It’s time to go. Get your sister.” She then turned her attention back to Sarah Jane. “Who is he?”

“The former PM,” she said with a wince of confusion. “Saxon.”

“He went nuts, didn’t he?” Rose mused. She held Mark’s jacket open as the youngster slipped his arms inside. She held Alirra’s jacket to him so that he’d help his sister with it. “Co conspirator in the assassination of the President, right?”

“Why are we leaving, Mum?” Mark complained. “Can’t we please stay a while longer?”

“I’m sorry, Baby,” she said with a dip in her head. “Maybe we can come back tomorrow if it’s nice out. How about that, yeah?”

“Yeah, unless Uncle Brax picks us up,” he said with a huff. “Kinda anti-playground he is.” He looked to Sarah Jane with a pinch of wariness in one eye. “Hello. Friend of Mum’s?”

Sarah Jane’s attention was still on the staggering, muttering man slowly making his approach. “Rose. I think it’s for the best that we leave. Now. My car is parked around the corner, I’ll take you and the children home.”

“Call the police,” Rose huffed. “If he’s escaped prison…”

“Death,’ Sarah Jane corrected her. “Harry Saxon was killed, not incarcerated.”

“Oh don’t be so daft,” Rose snapped. “If a man’s dead, he’s dead. There’s no escaping that.” She stooped to pick up her daughter, then clutched tightly at Mark’s had. “But there is us escaping a mad man.” She tugged her son’s hand. “Let’s go.”

As a foursome, they turned to leave the park. A gravelled, low voice stopped all of them in their tracks.

“So hungry,” Saxon growled with a sneer as he staggered around them. He sniffed at the air. He then stopped into a low lean and sniffed toward the group. “And the air is thick with it, isn’t it? Humans making their Christmas dinner plans with all that food, so much food. All hot and sticky, full of flesh and blood and grease.” 

Rose shoved her so behind her, angling herself in such a manner as to shield Alirra as best she could. She heard the direct reference to humans in his rant, which threw off far more warning bells than even Sarah Jane’s suggestion that Harold Saxon had been resurrected.

“You-you might want to back off,” she warned him with a slight waver in her voice. “I mean it.”

He hissed a wet laugh through his teeth. Spittle sprayed out with each exhale. His sway was almost a swagger. At least it was an attempt at one. “And what’re you gonna do, then?” He jumped forward in a half pounce that had Rose yelp and step backward. He threw his head back and belched out a maniacal laugh at her. “Come on, then. If you’re going to issue a threat, you might want to back it up.”

Sarah Jane stepped forward. She stepped in front of Rose and held a can of pepper spray up toward his face. “This threat enough for you?” she charged him angrily. “Unless you want me to unload this can into your face, you’ll walk away right now.”

He smirked. “Capsaicin.” He hummed a laugh. “Good for seasoning something hot hot hot and delicious.” His humour fell, “ But it won’t do anything to deter me, should I choose to ignore your threats.” He leaned forward. “Immune to it. But go ahead. Give it a shot.”

Sarah Jane stood firm, without a noticeable flinch, although she did convey a little bit of discomfort.

He grabbed her wrist and held the spray at his nose. “Well come on then,” he sang out. “Give it your best shot. I’m upwind, sweetheart, you and the kids will get dosed just as much as I do.” He paused and sniffed the air again. “Hold on.”

He roughly released Sarah Jane’s wrist and rushed toward Rose and Alirra. He stopped short about a foot away from the child, lowered his head and drew in a long breath through his nose. Rose quickly held her child closer and took a long step backward.

“Time Lord,” he hissed out with a smile. “Why do I smell Time Lord in that little girl?” he made a four-count popping noise with his lips. “the beating of pair hearts, four counts. A Count of four. Like the drums…” He shook himself, still swaying on the spot, and let out a growl. “Does that mean you hear them too, little girl? Do you hear the drums in your head too?”

Rose thrust her hand into her jacket pocket, fumbling for her phone and the activation switch for the emergency beacon that Braxiatel had installed on it. “Stay away from me and my children,” she snarled. “And don’t you dare speak to my daughter, you got me?”

“Time Lords,” he growled with a flick of his eyes down to Mark. “That one too.” His eyes flicked upward, but not his face. He looked at her through his brows. “Not too many of us left out here from what I hear. Doesn’t leave a great deal of options at to who sired that pair. Especially when you remove me from the only two potential sires left roaming the universe.” He looked to the little girl who was watching with intense eyes that were surprisingly completely devoid of fear, and then down to the boy, whose eyes were full of that very emotion. 

Little coward… Just like his _father_ …

He smirked toward Rose. “You one of his, then?” His face lengthened and his chin lifted. “One of his little strays he took a bit of a fancy to? Can’t say I blame him. Mean, you might not be exactly my type, but with a mouth like that… well….” He let out a laugh. “So? Which one are you, then?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.,” she sneered in reply. Her thumb finally found the switch on her phone. She gave it a firm push, feeling it snick underneath her fingers.

“Oh you know exactly who I’m talking about, don’t you? The father of your children…” He slowly mouthed a two syllable word in a staggered manner as though each syllable was a separate word. He repeated it again, but this time with voice. “Doc – tor. Doc - tor. Where is your Doct – tor?” 

Sarah Jane stepped around Rose to put herself between this man and the Doctor’s family. She pressed her hand hard against his chest and gave a push, hoping that it might force him to stagger backward. She glared at him, even as he continued with his two syllable chanting. His eyes were and maniacal as his smile was, and it was unnerving. “Who are you?” she growled out.

“Not the Doc - tor,” he answered back with glee in his voice. 

She grinned when she heard the whine and wheeze of an approaching TARDIS. “No, you’re not. But he obviously on his way…”

Rose knew that sound. She’d heard it every single day for the past two years. That wasn’t the Doctor’s TARDIS, the pitch of Braxiatel’s younger female capsule was different to the TARDIS’ aged cry. 

“Not the Doctor,” she corrected on a breath. 

Sarah Jane huffed. “Oh, who else can it be?”

Rose looked toward the capsule materialising a couple of metres to their side. Not a Police Box, but a silver and gold cylinder embossed with Cardinal’s seal along the doors. She looked to Saxon with warning in her eyes. “Someone who’s just as dangerous as he is.”

“And who might that be?” he asked with an arrogant sneer.

The capsule burst open the moment that it had materialised completely. Braxiatel stormed out of the doors, still hissing with smoke and steam, and bee-lined it straight toward Saxon. Although his crisp red oxford was already rolled up to his elbows, he made a show of pushing them up further as he stalked.

“Get in the capsule,” he demanded angrily of Rose and the children. “Now!” he finished with equal fury. He lifted his arms, crossing his bare forearms at the wrist, and shoved his elbows hard into Saxon’s shoulders. He had the man hauled up against the jagged bark of a large dying tree before he’d even finished his demand.

Saxon’s eyes were wide, and his breath caught. He held off struggling against Braxiatel’s firm hold, but only because he wanted to sneer and make it seem as though he wasn’t in any way affected by the glare of a furious Lungbarrow lad.

“Irving Braxiatel,” he greeted through his teeth instead. “Long time no see…”

“That’s _Cardinal_ to you, you filthy piece of excrement,” he snarled in reply. He heard Rose peep to his rear and snatched a quick turn of his head to look down along his shoulder. His eyes didn’t meet hers, but the shift of his focus was obviously toward her. His voice was hot and extremely irritated. “Rose, I told you to get in the Capsule. Now is _not_ the time to argue with me, so do as you’re told and get inside.” His eyes then shifted forward, almost expressionless when he softened his tone just slightly left of hostile. “Please.”

Saxon belted out an incredulous laugh. “She’s yours?” Although choked, he did attempt to lift his chin to laugh. All it did was allow Braxiatel a much firmer hold of his crossed wrists at his throat. “Runs in the family, I see. Get yourself a temporary plaything in the form of a Human tail.” He inhaled through his teeth. “Must admit, they are fun little playthings, aren’t they?”

“By the Gods, you don’t change, do you, Koschei?” He snarled against his cheek as he pushed him more firmly against the tree. “Still a mouthy little coward even after all these centuries, aren’t you?”

“Like you and your brother can talk,” he spit out. “All either of you ever do is talk talk talk. Pathetic cowards, the both of you.”

Braxiatel’s voice softened to a harsh whisper. Spittle sprayed against Saxon’s face as he forced his breath out to make his whisper as harsh as possible. “I think you know full well that I do far more than simply talk.” He huffed against his face. “Power,” he reminded him. “And I’ve got more than you can ever hope to have, you snivelling fool.” He locked his eyes with his and gave him a dark sneering smile. “And how do you think I got it? Not from being a _coward_ , that’s for sure.”

.

“And you call me a criminal,” he seethed, now finally writhing against the choking hold against his throat. He dropped his arms down either side of himself, flexing and curling his hands into fists. As he did so, blue tendrils of energy sparked and sparkled from his fingertips. “Compared to you, I’m a saint.”

“Then heed this warning and take it seriously,” he warned. “You leave her and the children alone. I’m not opposed to putting a bullet in your brain as many times as it takes to exhaust any remaining regenerations you have left.”

He grinned. “Oh how sweet. Such a protective daddy, aren’t you?” His eyes lit up at the darkening in Braxiatel’s demeanour to the question, but he rolled his eyes. “If I had the time and the inclination, I might call your bluff and go after them, just to have a little bit of fun.”

“I almost want you to try,” he seethed in reply. “Give me all the reason I need to wipe your existence from the universe.”

“You sure you _need_ a reason, Brax?” He grinned. “Go ahead. See how you fare against your brother if you do. He _loves_ me, remember. Has since we were loomlings free to run through our estate grounds.” He sniffed smugly. “In a choice between me and you, he’ll stand in my corner every single time.”

“I like how you think that I’m scared of him,” he challenged. “Of every species in the entire universe, I think I’m the only one who won’t cower to his glare.” He pressed his arm harder against his throat and moved in close. His voice lowered to a husk of amusement. “Even you can’t say that, can you? Best friends indeed.”

Saxon struggled to breathe against him. Braxiatel’s chin lifted, his mouth opening in time with the slow tilt. His eyes were wide and looked down over the apples of his cheeks at him. “Not so talkative now, are you, Koschei? What’s wrong, hmmmm? Can’t catch your breath?” 

There was the sound of a small firearm clicking to his right. In his peripheral, he could see the woman who was speaking with Rose standing in a braced position, holding a small gun in both hands.

“I can’t let you do this,” she warned him firmly. “He’s an evil man, and I get that. But that doesn’t give you the right to do this to him.” She shifted the gun to accent her intention to shoot him if necessary. “He needs to face justice and pay for his crimes. Human justice, not Time Lord justice.”

Saxon actually had a slight chuckle at the rapid change in Braxiatel from furious and aggressive to disappointed annoyance. His face was almost expressionless, except for the upward roll in his eyes. He released one arm from Saxon’s throat to snap out a hand and snatch the gun from her hand. It was a smooth movement for him to transition the gun into hand and than hold it against Saxon’s forehead. He still dropped his other forearm from Saxon’s throat and stepped back far enough that it required to full stretch of his arm to keep the gun against his skin. He glared down that arm at him, his thumb twitching around the handle of the weapon.

“Use it,” Saxon demanded of him with a sneer. He lifted his hands to cover the barrel of the gun and hold it more firmly against his head. “Go ahead, _Cardinal_. Use it. Show me how much of a brave and mighty Time Lord you are. Do what your brother can’t seem find the balls to do: kill me.”

“Rassilon needs you,” he stated on a low voice.

“So your brother said.”

“What does he need you for?”

Saxon shrugged. “I have no idea.” Then he smirked. “Ooooooh, I see.” His brows lifted and he gave Braxiatel a facetiously apologetic look. “Am I one of those missing little puzzle pieces for you, Brax? Hmmm? Can’t kill me till you’ve solved the mystery of what our Lord Rassilon wants of me?”

Braxiatel shifted the seat of the gun in the centre of Saxon’s forehead, but didn’t pull the trigger. “You’re my brother’s responsibility,” he warned him through his teeth. “For now. But only for now.”

“You’re actually going to let me go?”

Braxiatel wore a wince across his face as he dropped the weapon to his side. He stepped close to Saxon, and wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him close to snarl against his ear.

“If you come near my family again,” he warned. “If you show your face anywhere near Rose and the children, I will kill you.” He stuck the gun into his side, holding it firm against his jumper. “If you so much as utter an obscenity or threat toward them. I will kill you.” He turned his face to speak directly into his ear, his lips brushing against the shell of it. “And when this is over, and we don’t need you to know what Rassilon’s grand plans are … I will find you, and I will kill you.” He inhaled deeply. “And remember one thing about me, Koschei. The one difference between Thete and I. I _will_ honour my threat against you. So make sure you run, little tafelshrew, run…”

He released him with a shove and quickly turned his back on him. He had no fear of the Master, and really didn’t feel the need to appear guarded around him. The greatest insult he could give was to tun his back on him and walk without fear. “Now go,” he huffed out with a wave of his arm. “Get out of my sight.”

Braxiatel wasn’t surprised to see Rose standing outside the capsule. She had safely stowed the children – for which he was grateful – but waited for him against the doors. At her side, stood another woman, one mildly familiar possibly more by reputation than true introduction. He spun the gun in his hand to hold it’s handle to her. 

“Apology for taking your weapon,” he said flatly. “But I really don’t like having guns pointed at me. Perhaps going forward you might want to rethink your strategy of going straight for a gun, especially when you can be relieved of it so easily.”

“Who _are_ you?” she asked with incredulity.

He strode to Rose and threw his arms around her tightly. “Is he still there?” He asked.

Rose looked over his shoulder. Saxon was still within sight, but he was slowly slinking away. “I think you’re good.”

He let out a relieved breath and pulled back from their embrace. He cupped her face in his hands and looked her over, tenderly drawing his thumbs over her cheeks. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you at all?”

She shook her head. “No. No I’m okay. The kids are okay.” She shuddered. “I think you showed up just in time.”

He snapped her in for another hug, making a loud and gruff sound of relief. “Thank the Gods, Rose. If something happened to you or those little ones…”

She wriggled out of his hold. “We’re okay, I promise.” She moved to Sarah Jane. “Are you okay?”

Sarah Jane looked completely bewildered. Her eyes were wide and rather terrified. Her head shook to take in this friendly looking man, who only moments ago was levering dark and dangerous threats that only a man mad would utter. She took Rose’s hand in her and tugged her toward her, openly suggesting that she should stay away from him. “Who are you?” she demanded.

“I want to aske the same of you,” he smoothed in reply, noting the protective guard she seemed to have on Rose. “Obviously we have the same intentions toward Rose.”

“She is the wife of one of my dearest friends, and the mother of his children.” Sarah Jane replied.

His brows lifted. “A common interest then. Rose is the wife of my brother, and the mother of my niece and nephew.”

Her eyes flashed with surprise. “You’re the Doctor’s brother?”

“I might occasionally admit it,” he said with a shrug. “Much rather you didn’t say it too loudly, though.” Looked toward his capsule and then back to her. “Think it might be best you come with us back to the house,” he said with a sigh. “If your happenstance to find Rose after all this time is with the intention I believe it to be, then we’re going to have to talk.” He walked to the capsule. “And I’m going to need a drink.” His eyes shifted to Rose. “And do you happen to have any pie I can snack on?”

~~oooOOOooo~~


	74. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah Jane Smith is not really sure about this Braxiatel fellow...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to steam-roll through this one today. I've been wondering just how to play this episode.... but didn't want to stop writing, because that's when writer's block kicks in and i lose steam.
> 
> Fortunately, in the writing of this one, I worked it out... Heh ... Got it sussed now. 
> 
> I do hope you like this rather fluffy piece...and that's what it is... fluff.... Been a while since I did that.
> 
> I hope that you enjoy

~~oooOOOooo~~

Sarah Jane watched the movements of Braxiatel with very wary eyes as he piloted them away from the park. His somewhat reluctant assurance that he was the Doctor’s brother and held Rose and her children’s protection in the highest regard didn’t grant her any form of immediate respect or trust for him. Not after what she’d just seen of him. He had burst onto the scene with all of the force of a powerful storm, a man possessed, full of anger and vengeance, spitting harsh orders toward Rose and the kids that he expected be obeyed without so much as looking at them. He attacked Saxon and looked ready to kill him without thought. 

When his TARDIS materialised Rose warned that this man was as dangerous as the Doctor. That had been a descriptor that initially startled her. Sarah Jane had never considered the Doctor to be a particularly dangerous man. At least not the men she’d known, anyway. He was greatly feared by those who chose to cross him, yes, but that was more because of stories and legends shared across the universe and not because he was an evil tyrant hell-bent on destruction. The Doctor only ever posed a danger toward plans of destruction and mayhem, not to individuals themselves. The thought that he might intentionally or unintentionally harm another would upset him greatly.

This man … well, he appeared to operate on a much different level than the Doctor. More of the type to consider the individuals within the puzzle as being the pieces that needed to be removed, rather than the structure itself.

She couldn’t shake that image from her mind even as he stood beside the centre console of his ship with a child seated lovingly on his hip as he kindly instructed the young boy how to pilot the craft. The dark and dangerous glare of him was now soft and kind, and even amused toward his nephew’s excitable bouncing as he moved around the console.

“Look at you, young Mark!” he cheered. “We’ll have you flying a capsule by yourself in no time.”

Rose stood against the wall to Sarah Jane, with one arm held across her belly, quietly gnawing at her thumbnail and watching silently. This was the moment that she should have interjected with an argument against the young boy piloting one of these ships alone, but she didn’t. Her focus was on the floor and she looked to be in deep thought. It didn’t miss Sarah Jane’s attention that this man kept his eyes on her, even while he tended to the children.

“Don’t think about it,” he warned gently from across the console. He watched her lift her head to him, the side of her thumbnail still between her teeth. “Put it out of your mind.”

“Easier said than done,” she replied through her teeth and past her thumb. “If you hadn’t shown up when you did…”

“I said don’t think about it,” he reminded her. “I got there in time. You and the children are safe. Like I promised you’d be.”

Her hand curled into a loose fist against her chin, which drew her thumb from her mouth and allowed her to speak properly. “You knew him,” she said flatly. “He knew the Doctor.” At his nod, she continued. “One of you lot, then?”

Sarah Jane remained quiet, curious herself as to what the answer might be. Of course, Saxon had made it clear that he was a Time Lord, and so the only question now was which one. Her experience with the Lords of Time, at least those she’d encountered, were rarely pleasant ones. 

Braxiatel leaned forward to flip the materialisation switch to land them inside Rose’s house. “Best we save this discussion for when Romana is able to be present for it.” He exhaled. “Would much rather only have to discuss it once. The less I have to think of that pathetic little cretin the better.” He held Alirra with both arms around her as the capsule slowly materialised in place. “He’s been a thorn in my side since he and Thete were children.”

There was no greeting at the doors of the ship as they all disembarked. They barely all made it out in one dignified looking group. Mark shot out like a bullet, shooting out from in between Rose and Braxiatel with such force that the two of them stumbled. He was off light a light, however, quickly disappearing down the hallway and into the kitchen, ignoring the chiding called to him by his mother to watch himself and use his manners.

“I swear he gets that from him,” Rose muttered with a shake of her head. “Always running off to get into strife.”

“I can guarantee you that’s his father’s doing,” Braxiatel huffed as he led them into the living room. “The second Thete learned to walk he started running. Haven’t found a way to stop him yet.”

“Talking about your brother?” Romana said with a smile from the armchair as the trio entered the room. The smile fell slightly to see a new face. She quickly pulled from her lazy slouch and lifted to a stand. “Did something happen?”

“Koschei,” Braxiatel answered gruffly. He set Alirra on the carpet beside the young child that Romana had been caring for and kissed the top of her head before he stepped away with a huff. His arms folded across his chest and his lip curled in annoyance. “He exhausted his regeneration cycle six incarnations ago. Somehow he always finds a way to be reborn.”

“Indeed,” Romana agreed. She walked toward Sarah Jane and regarded her with a warm smile. “Are you a friend of Rose’s?” She held out her hand. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’m Romana.”

“Sarah Jane,” she answered dutifully, but with a warm smile of her own. She lightly took hold of Romana’s hand for a shake. “I’m a friend of both Rose and the Doctor.” 

“More the Doctor than me,” Rose admitted with a small smile. She walked to the couch and flopped down heavily in it. “She’s part of the search party he’s sent out to look for me and the kids.”

Romana’s eyes widened. “Oh dear.” She rubbed at her brows. “Tell me he’s not.”

“It’s not really a concerted search on his half,” Sarah Jane offered. “It does seem to fall more along the lines of if you see her let me know. Of course, you know that means the UNIT and Torchwood dogs are on the scent. Get into his good favour, if you will.”

“And where do you fall in?” Romana asked. “I don’t expect you’re a member of either organisation. Yet here you are.”

Sarah Jane took a seat on the couch beside Rose, tired of waiting to receive an invitation to do so. “Consider me curious more than obedient,” she admitted. “I met the Doctor when he was with Rose. I saw what was between them at that time, and how deeply she cared for him.” She looked to Rose and then to Romana. “When I heard he was looking for her, well. I wanted to know why they were separated … the _circumstances_ that led to it.”

“So your intention wasn’t to find her and send message to him?”

She shook her head. “And not give Rose the chance to make that connection herself?” A smile lifted the edge of her mouth. “I’m not one for ambushes, Romana. If Rose had chosen to leave him on her own and didn’t want him near her, then who am I to force that on her?” She put her hand on Rose’s knee, giving it a squeeze of support. “If the Doctor is to hear news of Rose from _my_ search, it would be from Rose personally, not from me.”

“I’m very glad to hear that,” Romana breathed out.

“Of course,” Sarah Jane cut in quickly. Her eyes shifted toward Braxiatel, who actually had yet to formally introduce himself to her. “If I think for a moment that Rose and her children are in any danger at all, I _will_ call him.”

Still standing with his arms folded across his chest, Braxiatel’s brow lifted. “I’m not quite sure how to receive that threat,” he muttered. “Especially being that the safest place for Rose and the children right now is here with me.”

“Not from what I just saw,” she muttered. “You ask me, you behaved no better than him.”

His arms dropped to his sides and his jaw dropped. “Did you really just compare me to him? To _him_?” He gestured toward Rose with both hands. “I just rescued them, and _you_ – let’s not forget you as well – from one of the most dangerous individuals in the entire universe, and you’re suggesting that Rose is not safe with me standing as sentinel?”

She blinked at him, her straight expression being one of challenge.

“Oh,” he huffed. “Really?” He growled out a sound of annoyance. “Right. You know what? Just for that I need a drink.” His eyes flicked to Rose. “What’s the strongest thing I’ve brought you? I need the strongest of them all to take the taste of _that_ comparison out of my mouth.” He stalked toward the kitchen, feigning a retch.

“Bring back enough for all of us, yeah?” Rose called to him. “And pie, bring the pie!”

“I’m going to eat it all!” he called back.

Romana took a seat at the armchair across the coffee table from the couch. She crossed her legs at the knee and leaned an elbow on the armrest to press her fist into her temple in a lean. “What happened, Rose? Is he right, was it Koschei?”

“I have no idea who that even is,” Rose admitted with an exaggerated shrug and a shake in her head. “Though, based on the conversation between the two of them, I would say so. Brax did call him that more than once.”

“Koschei was his name on Gallifrey,” Romana answered without lifting her head off her fist. “Before he went mad and changed his name to the Master.” She saw no recognition in the eyes of either woman, and found herself both thankful and worried that they’d never confronted him before. 

“Who is that?” Sarah Jane queried with more curiosity than fear.

“Psychiatrist’s dream if you ask me,” Rose murmured. “What a name to call yourself, yeah?” her eyes widened. “Well. Unless you find yourself in a certain profession that… uh … you know what? Never mind.”

Romana lifted from her lean and leaned back in the chair. “The Master, back when he was called Koschei, was an extremely close friend of the Doctors. As children and at the academy they were inseparable…”

“More like we couldn’t get rid of him,” Braxiatel cut in with a grunt as he loudly clinked four short tumblers on the coffee table. He twisted off the cap of the bottle and leaned down to splash almost a half glass for himself. “He spent a lot more time on our estates rather than at his own. Right little terror, too, constantly interrupting Thete’s home studies by having him sneak out…”

“Who is Thete?” Sarah Jane asked, wondering if Braxiatel was going to pour drinks for them as well as himself. When he didn’t, she leaned forward to pour each of the ladies a glass.

“Thete’s the Doctor,” Rose said softly. She held up her hands before she could ask the follow-up question. “Not his real name, mind. Just the one he used at the academy. It stuck with Brax..”

“Only because I refuse to call him _The Doctor_ ,” he answered with a roll in his eyes. “Could have called himself anything else, and I’d have run with it.”

“But you expect people to refer to you as _The Cardinal_ ,” Rose challenged with a cheeky smile and small flare in her eyes as she spoke the name.

“That’s because I _am_ the Cardinal, Rose,” he tutted. “Mine is an official title, not a self styled one. Big difference.”

“He was a doctor, too, remember,” Rose challenged as he lifted his glass to his lips. “And a good one at that.”

He regarded her a moment over the top of the glass. He seemed to consider it. Then his face creased and he gave a minute shake of his head. “Still not doing it.”

Sarah Jane wasn’t exactly interested in the banter, although it did serve to give her a little more insight into the man. “So this Koschei/Master fellow. He was a friend of the Doctors. I expect at some point there was a falling out of sorts?”

“That’s the odd thing about it,” Braxiatel admitted as he took a seat on the armrest of Romana’s chair. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his parted knees and held his glass with both hands there. “None of us can determine exactly what happened between them.” He leaned heavily to one side, pressing one of his hands into his knee to push his weight down on one elbow. He used that lean to share a look with his wife. “The feud between the two of them is sensational enough that it made the texts at the Academy. You studied them, Romana. Got anything?”

She shook her head. “Limited information. Mostly tales, really. Just that the Master was slowly driven mad, falling deeper and deeper into insanity until he finally broke after graduation.” She laid her arm along Braxiatel’s leg, tapping her fingertip on his knee. “The Doctor did try to rescue him from his madness, but only managed to increase the divide between them.” She looked toward Sarah Jane. “The Master ran through his regenerations very quickly, barely making it to a half millennia before he was on his very last. He needed more, and went after the Doctor to take what remained of his regenerations.”

“In the Timeline concurrent with where he is right now,” Braxiatel added. “This has been a war between them spanning very close to a millenia. No matter what torture the Master puts him through, each time they meet, Thete tries to save his friend. Each time he tries, he fails.” He looked to Sarah Jane. “That Time Lord breaks his hearts continually. I watch him falter with new agony every time they meet.” His eyes shifted to Alirra, who was engaged in a game of peek-a-boo with the baby. “He will use any means possible to him to torture Thete in ways you couldn’t even begin to fathom. If he knew they existed…”

Sarah Jane nodded slowly, her eyes also drifting toward the two young girls. “Which is why you made him believe that the children were yours, and that Rose was your wife.”

“Temporary human plaything, I believe he called her,” Braxiatel corrected with a smirk and a look toward Rose. “That’s a name I might just get behind.”

“I’d throw something at you if Romana wasn’t in the direct flight path,” she grumbled in reply. “I like her a little more than I like you.”

“My poor shattered hearts,” he replied facetiously, then took a sip of his drink. He looked back at Sarah Jane. “Men like Koschei need to be handled in a very specific manner. They only respond to people who can prove themselves more insane and psychotic than they are. He fears me because he’s heard the legends and stories that pertain to my appointment as Cardinal…”

“Which aren’t necessarily inaccurate,” Romana reminded him.

“Anything that I’ve ever done has been with the approval and support of Council and done for the greater good of the people of Gallifrey.” He bit at the lip of his glass. “I’m not entirely proud of all of it, but I stand by each and every thing I’ve ever done.” He drew back a long swig and winced as he swallowed. “I’ve known Koschei since he was loomed. I was there on his name day, standing beside my father as witness. I know his weaknesses and I know his strengths just as well as I know my brother’s. Both of them are far to compatible for there ever to be a victor between them.”

“But the Doctor’s always been able to rein him in successfully enough,” Romana offered. “Which is why Council hasn’t stepped in to stop it.” She blew out a breath. “And as long as they’re warring amongst the two of them, they tend to leave Gallifrey alone. The Time Lords will accept the collateral damage if it protects our society.”

“This collateral damage,” Sarah Jane growled. “Tends to be people here on Earth, I’ll expect.” Her eyes pinched. “The last time he made an appearance here on Earth, we lost a President and his staff.”

“It could have been worse,” Romana said low. “It could have been far worse if it wasn’t for the Doctor.”

“If he’s here then,” Rose offered carefully. “Then that means he’s here, too, doesn’t it?” She lifted her chin to look at Braxiatel, whose expression was hardening.

“Rose,” he warned. “You can’t see him, and you know it.”

“He’s going to be in danger,” she reminded him. “You just said it. The Master will find any means to hurt him.”

“Which doesn’t include you and the kids,” he confirmed firmly. “My capsule is untraceable. He has no way of tracing our flight path toward here … Not even Rassilon can find me if I don’t want him to.”

“He’s right,” Romana agreed. “Not even _I_ can find him, and I’m his mate.”

“This house is also heavily fortified by seven capsules containing some of the most advanced technology available on Gallifrey. The security those capsules offer prevent the outside world from detecting anything out of the ordinary. A materialisation can’t even be heard beyond your fence line.” He set his glass on his knee. “So if you think for a second that he’s coming for you to use you and the kids against Thete, then think again. You and the kids are safe. I’ve made sure of it.”

Sarah Jane was intrigued, and not entirely happily so. “Why do you require so much security?”

“There you go,” he cheered as he pointed to Sarah Jane. “Security _so_ good that your inquisitive and untrusting friend here can’t even hear the thousands of people living on the other side of your kitchen door. We’ve had two materialisations since we got home – undetectable.” 

Romana winced when Sarah Jane shot up to her feet. “Brax, please. Don’t be so rude.” She stood up and followed behind Sarah Jane as she ran toward the kitchen. “Shame that you’re not so secure about it…”

Rose jumped to her feet and skipped around the table. She dropped into the seat that Romana had vacated and leaned her arms across Braxiatel’s knees. She looked up at him towering high above her with pleading in her eyes, but said nothing.

He looked down at her, by now able to read her mind without even having to initiate any form of telepathic contact. Her eyes were the window to that soul, and it showed him everything he needed to see. He exhaled a long breath. “Rose. Thete’s going to be okay. He hasn’t let Koschei beat him yet. I can’t imagine that today’s going to be the day he gets a one-up on him.”

She tried for the most intense possible kind of pleading in her eyes.

His brow twitched. “I’m not Thete, I’m not a sucker. I’m immune to your big inflated eye thing, Rose, so don’t waste your time with that on me.” 

She increased her effort, which was helped greatly when Alirra curiously wandered over and gave him the very same expression that her mother was.

“Oh no. No, no, no, no, _come on_ ,” he whined. “Using the child against me?” He leaned back and faced the corridor. “Romana! I need your help. Rose and Alirra. They’re tag-teaming me here to get what they want.”

“You’re big enough and ugly enough to ward them off without my help,” her voice called back cheerily. “I’m sure you can handle them.”

He grunted with defeat and slouched. “Nice support there from my mate,” he grumbled as he pulled Alirra onto his knee. He looked into her little face. “You don’t even know what your mother wants, do you? You just decided to get on her side instead of your Uncle’s. I feel betrayed.”

“Just keep an eye on him,” Rose pleaded. “You don’t have to get involved, just watch, make sure that he’s okay. You’re here, he’s here, you’re his big brother…”

His brow flicked. “With that statement, you’re suggesting that I have some form of responsibility toward him?”

She rolled her shoulder with a coy movement, and looked away from him. Her shoulder tipped up innocently to her ear. “Well,” she drawled. “It’s not like this isn’t also a good way to gather some more intel about what Rassilon might want with Koschei, yeah? Information you can’t get otherwise.” She pursed her lips. “Must be drivin’ you mad that you don’t know…”

Braxiatel looked toward Alirra. “Oh she’s good, isn’t she darling?” She started to struggle, so he put her back on the ground and watched her run back toward the other little girl. “You need to promise me that you and the kids will stay here.” He looked back at her. “That you won’t leave the house at all, under any circumstances.”

“I promise,” she whispered. “Just please. Help him.”

He leaned down and curled his arm around her head. With gentle coaxing, he drew her to him and pressed a kiss against her hair. “This usually isn’t my game,” he admitted against the top of her head. 

“But it has been mine,” Romana suggested. She stood at the doorway beside Sarah Jane, who wore an expression of shock on her face. “I was with your brother on two sides of a regeneration. I’ve been by his side through many encounters like these.”

“I’d really rather you didn’t come,” Braxiatel breathed out, separating from Rose with a slow rise back up to a tall seat. “But I’ll suspect that you’re not going to give me much of a choice in the matter.”

She wore a smile as she cupped his jaw and leaned down to press a light kiss against his mouth. “I knew there was a reason I married you, Brax. You know me so well.”

He growled and hooked his arms around her hips. There was a cheeky grin on his face when he pulled her down sideways over his knee, leaned her back down over Rose, and dipped to kiss his wife deeply. At this proximity, Rose could tell that this kiss was so much more than just a simple toe-curler. This kiss dove into Romana’s very soul.

“Oh come on,” Rose whimpered out with a wince on her face as she tried to scramble away. “I’m right here,”

Braxiatel separated from his wife only far enough to be able to lift his hooded eyes toward Rose. His lips were still parted, and shone with the moisture from Romana’s mouth. “Didn’t see you there,” he huffed out with a low chuckle. “Sorry.” He looked down to his wife. “So where were we, then?”

Rose groaned out and used the other side of the chair to extricate herself. She brushed herself off and shuddered. “And you say your brother is a petulant little cobblemouse,” she groused. “Reckon he learned that from you.”

Romana drew the tips of her fingers along Braxiatel’s jaw and sighed appreciatively. She was still laid back across his knee and looked up at him with worship in her eyes. “Have I told you just how much I love this cheeky new incarnation of yours?”

He hummed in invitation for her to continue and expand on that.

“So playful and so…” She leaned up and whispered against his ear.

His expression, which was one of preening and pride suddenly fell. His eyes widened and face lengthened as his wife spoke against his ear. He made a pathetic peeping sound as she pulled away from him and pulled back to give him a sultry look.

“Right!” He called out with a gulp as he held his wife against his chest and shot to his feet. “I – er – I believe it’s time we left, right Romana? Thete needs our support after all.” He gulped again as he let her feet touch the floor and thumbed to his ship. “My capsule, then, beloved? Yes. Yes. Great idea, let’s take my, ehm.” He tugged on Romana’s hand and gave Sarah Jane and Rose a hasty wave of his fingers from his temple. “Don’t wait up. Might be a while…”

“Time machine,” Rose said with a chuckle. “So you have no choice but to have her home by Ten.” She called loudly after him as he pulled Romana by the hand into the capsule. “Do you hear me Irving Braxiatel? No later then ten!”

She stood at Sarah Jane’s side as the doors of Braxiatel’s capsule slammed shut and watched as it dematerialised into the Time Vortex. “Well. I guess he’s gotten over his utter distaste toward the physical act of mating, then.”

Sarah Jane gave her a somewhat incredulous look of question. “What do you mean by _that_?”

Rose smiled and lowered her head as she gave it a shake. “Oh. Nothing. Just an inside joke that I will be sure to bring up later and give him a right teasing about.”

“I really don’t know what to make of him,” Sarah Jane said after a moment. “I really don’t. He’s two polar opposite spectrums in one, that one.”

“When you think about it,” she offered with a shrug. “So’s the Doctor – only he’s capable of rushing from one end of the spectrum to the other inside a heartsbeat. Brax tends to take a little longer.” She turned to face Sarah Jane. “He’s truly a wonderful man though. I don’t know how me and the kids would’ve survived these past couple of years without him. He stepped up when their father couldn’t.”

“And why can’t he?” Sarah Jane asked curiously. “You mentioned it would mean danger to the universe, but I don’t see how.”

“Neither did I,” she admitted. “But it came down to him not bein’ able to be what he needed to be if I we continued to be part of each other’s lives.” She looked toward the kitchen, and to the bustling activity beyond the door. “And I don’t think we’d have all this, either … a chance to save what we can before war destroys them completely.”

“It’s an amazing set up you have here,” Sarah Jane breathed out with awe. “How you’ve managed it, I have no idea.”

A proud smile spread across her face. “With the wonderful and dedicated people that Brax and Romana pulled together. They are amazing.” She gave her a wide smile. “Would you like to meet some of them?”

“I would love that,” she breezed out. “I would absolutely love it.”

“Be careful,” she warned. “They might end up recruiting you.” She opened the door and looked to one of the ladies at the table. “Carein, would you mind please keeping an eye on the girls for a moment?”

She gave her a nod and lifted to a stand. She looked relieved to be able to take a break of sorts. “Of course, Lady Rose. I’ll be happy to.”

Sarah Jane gave Rose an amused look. “Lady?”

“Brax has them all calling me that.” She walked them both out through the kitchen doors toward the refugee capsules. “We’ll start here. Sarah, you’ll fall in love, I promise you…”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Dark brown leather boots topped with a gators that traveled as high as his knees walked from the medical capsule and into an area of the residence that he’d been warned against entering by the medical teams. He didn’t dare travel too deeply inside, but curiosity made him want to at least have a look toward the front of the home. Homely warmth kissed at him almost immediately. It was by no means immaculately kept, but it was certainly a clean and well cared for home. There were random children’s toys placed upon tables and chairs. Small jackets no doubt worn by youngsters hung from coat hooks beside the front door, and a mat on the floor was full of pairs of shoes of varying sizes placed with little to no actual order. Many seemed to have been kicked or toed off the wearer and left in place.

There were a few framed photographs and pictures on the wall, which caught his interest. Before he could step further into the hallway, however, he was stopped by a small blonde female. A tiny little thing she was, all blonde hair and big blue eyes that were held wide enough that she could take in her surroundings in its entirety without ever having to turn her head. This child must belong to the owner of the home – a Human woman they called Lady Rose. He was quite curious to meet her and express his thanks to her.

He dropped into a crouch and forced his lips to stretch into a smile of greeting. “Hello small human,” he greeted. At this level, he could tell that this child was not human. Her eyes were far too blue, and seemed to swirl with galaxies wrapped in time. He could sense the beating of her hearts, beating strong and true underneath a white long sleeved shirt covered with the embroidered bib of cotton coveralls.

“Small Time child then,” he corrected with a lift of a brow.

The little girl regarded him curiously a moment and then took a tentative step forward. “Papa?” she said with question.

“No,” he said with apology in his tone. “I believe you have me mixed up with someone else.”

She straightened her back and seemed firm on a decision. Her head tipped forward. “Papa.” She declared. She stepped forward and put both her hands on his knee, lifting her pretty little face up to reward him with a brilliant smile. “Papa.”

“No, I’m really not…”

She reached her arms up and curled them around his neck, climbing up onto his knee to settle against his side. She spoke in babbled Gallifreyan against his neck as she lifted her head to try talking with him with a voice not used in two years.

“Alirra? Where are you, sweetheart?” Carein stepped into the hallway with a loaded nappy in her hand and a towel in the other. She paused and held the towelled hand to her chest with relief. “Oh my. Lord Doctor, you gave me a start. I see you found my ward.”

“I believe it’s the other way around,” he answered with a shrug and a lift in his brow as he drew to a stand, little Alirra still attached to his side. “Is she yours, then?”

“Lady Rose,” Carein corrected. “No children or loomling for me yet.’ She held out her hands. “I’ll take her for you.”

Alirra gave her a dark stare and then turned her face into the Doctor’s neck. “No. Papa!”

“Oh my,” Carein said with shock. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard her say that much.” She looked at him. “And she believe you to be her father?”

“Rather generic look to me this time around,” he said with a shrug. “She’s young, easily confused.” He looked at the woman with curiosity. “Although I am intrigued. My understanding is that Lady Rose is Human.”

Carein nodded. “That’s correct.”

“But her children are Time Lord.”

Carein let a worried look pass across her features. “That might be a question better posed to the Cardinal,” she advised somewhat coolly. “If he has an answer for you on that, then I’m sure he’ll provide it to you. It's really not my place to say.” She held her hands out. “In the meantime, I should take the child before her mother returns.”

“Too late,” Rose said with a laugh. “I’ve returned.” Her eyes were wide on her daughter in the arms of a strange man. “Aly,” she chided gently. “Come here, darling.” 

Alirra whimpered at her mother and nestled against the Doctor’s chest. “Papa.”

“No, baby,” she corrected her. “He’s not papa.” She looked up to him with apologetic eyes. “I’m very sorry about this… ehm? I’m sorry, you are?”

“Doctor,” he answered dutifully. “The Doctor. You must be the Lady Rose. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

All of the colour drained from her face, but it went unnoticed by the Doctor as his attention shifted toward the woman at Rose’s side. The somewhat emotionless façade that he wore to this point lifted and lightened. “Well if my old eyes don’t deceive me. Sara Jane Smith. What a pleasant surprise…”

~~oooOOOooo~~


	75. Catching up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah Jane and the Doctor catch up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still in fluffsville here. Based on the timeline that I'm going for here, I can't quite get to the fun stuff in End of Time just yet... Got just a wee bit of work to get there first.
> 
> getting the players into position can sometimes be tiring...
> 
> I sinceriously hope you enjoy today's offering. Won't be able to get back to it tomorrow ... Sunday is family day. :)

~~oooOOOooo~~

Rose lost her ability to breathe. Here he was, her beloved husband, standing right in front of her. He held their daughter on his hip with a tender hold that seemed to be in complete contradiction to his rough and gruff exterior would suggest him capable of…

…Yet he had no idea who either of them were. Well, he knew of her, he stated as much, but he had no idea at all what they were together, and what she once was to him.

Sarah Jane, however, well he certainly remembered who she was. Whereas his introduction to Rose held a more dutiful than friendly reaction that garnered very little shift in his demeanour, his entire face lit up when he saw his former companion. If she wasn’t so utterly heartbroken by it, she’d actually be jealous of her.

Once upon a time she would have been. She’d have slumped and become quite petulant toward the woman and think of any juvenile cat-remark that she could have in order to make herself feel better. But that was Rose Tyler as an immature almost twenty year old … she’d grown far beyond those selfish tendencies a long time ago. Jealousy was now simply resigned heartbreak. And it wasn’t Sarah Jane’s fault or design …

Instead of a snip or a slight, Rose merely swallowed down her hurt. Her voice was soft and tender and wavered just slightly.

“Might it be better for the two of you to catch up in my lounge,” she offered quietly with a gesture of her chin toward the small archway that led to the living room. She looked up at the Doctor hoping beyond all measure that her eyes weren’t reddening in anyway to betray her forced strength in the face of him. “That is, if you have time, Lord Doctor.”

His return look held no real emotion toward her except his thanks. His eyes were still alight due to Sarah Jane. “If it’s not too much of an imposition to you, then I’d appreciate the opportunity to meet iwht an old friend.”

“Watch who you are calling old,” Sarah Jane retorted with indignance and a smile. She playfully slapped his arm with an upward movement of her hand from her hip. “Have you taken a look in the mirror lately?”

He let out a breath and shared a smile with her. “Indeed,” he breathed with sadness in his tone. “I’m so very old now.” There was a tug on his beard, and then a little forehead nestled against it. “Affectionate little one, aren’t you?” he mused quietly.

Rose lifted her hands. “Here, let me take her for you.” She put her hands on Alirra’s waist. “Come on, Aly. Let’s go make Auntie Sarah and the Lord Doctor a pot of tea.”

Alirra whimpered and clutched her arms around his neck much more tightly. She spoke broken Gallifreyan words of protest that insisted she remain with her papa and her mother was to go away. Rose felt her heart shatter, but not for her daughter’s insistence that she leave, but simply at the sound of a voice she hadn’t heard in so long. Her hand flew up to her mouth, and the emotions became hard to hide.

“Well that’s not very nice of you,” the Doctor said in soft chiding to the little girl, switching to the language of his people as it seemed to be her language of choice. “You’ve hurt your mother’s feelings.”

Rose shook her head. “No, she really hasn’t,” she admitted with a weak smile. “I’m more than used to her preference for the men in her life over her mother. Take a back seat, me, when she’s in the presence of her Uncle or … or her _father_.”

“Which I am not,” he stated as much as asked with a dip in his head to gauge her response.

“No, you’re not,” she breathed with as effective a poker face as she was capable. “We lost him quite some time ago to-to the war efforts.”

“I am so sorry to hear that,” he breathed with genuine empathy. “Too many good men and women have been lost to the fight.” He gave her an affectionate look. “But you already know that, don’t you?” his head lifted to the kitchen door, and to the silhouettes of the movement beyond through the frosted glass. “My language doesn’t contain enough words to express the gratitude of my people for what you’re doing here.”

“It’s my honour,” she said with a smile. “I’d like to think that my husband would approve.”

“I think he’d be proud,” he offered. “So very proud of what you’ve achieved here.” He looked to her with a smile. “Not that it would mean as much to you as it would to come from your mate, but I’ll express pride in you on his behalf.” 

“It means more to me than you could ever know,” she replied with a small choke. She schooled her emotion as much as possible with a thick gulp of a swallow. She looked to the living room again. “Please consider my home yours as much as mine. Sit and catch up, I’ll put a pot of tea on for you and Sarah Jane.” She held out her hands again for her child.

The Doctor lifted an arm to hold Alirra to him. “Don’t mind the child, I’m happy to keep her settled for you.” He blew out a breath and then looked down at big blue eyes full of love. “I must say it’s nice to have a weight in my arms that isn’t a gigantic weapon for mass destruction.”

“Don’t think for a minute that those big blue eyes of hers aren’t just that, Lord Doctor,” Rose said with a lightly wet chuckle. “She’s very much her father’s daughter, all mischief and mayhem.” She rubbed her daughter’s back and offered him a thankful look. “Only if you’re sure, of course.” She looked to Sarah Jane, whose expression was a mixture of sympathy and curiosity. “I shouldn’t be too long with the tea – it all depends on what line exists to get to my stovetop from the ladies. But enjoy. Catch up.”

She touched her arm and gave a tender stroke of her thumb. “Thank you, Rose.”

Rose nodded, watching as the Doctor walked into the living room, talking quietly to Alirra on his hip. Her head flicked back to her friend. “Remember, Sara Jane. You can’t tell him who we were to each other.”

“Were?” Sarah Jane asked with obvious confusion. “This man is before the Doctor you formed your relationship with…” She skidded to a halt with her words as Rose shook her head slowly. “Oh dear. Why do I think this is about to get much more complicated than I thought it would be?”

“My husband, and the father of my children,” Rose said softly. “Was the man before this one.”

“But the one I know now,” she said with a pinch in her cheek. “He’s older than this one. And you were only in the very beginning of things back then…” 

Rose inhaled deeply. “Our relationship is complicated.” She looked to Sarah Jane with apology. “The circumstances of me leaving him … the one you know … led me back to a much earlier him.”

Sarah Jane lowered her head into her hand and rubbed at her brows. “I was going to suggest that you and I really need to sit down and have a thorough discussion about this.” She looked up over her hand. “But I’m really not sure I have the mental faculties to appropriately cope with the convoluted mess that you’ve found yourself in.”

“Neither do I,” Rose breathed out. “Trust me on that. Got stocks in Panadol to cope with the headaches.”

“Well, it tells me one thing,” she offered. “At least you know that whatever body he finds himself in, and wherever he is in his timeline, the Doctor will love you.” She looked to the archway toward the living room. “Quite possibly that one as well given the chance.”

“Which he won’t be,” Rose warned. “He can’t know.” She looked to the empty cubby that would normally house Braxiatel’s capsule. “When he gets back, we’ll work something out. After, of course, I’ve given his arse a good kick for not thinking to add Doctor-proofing to my home in his grandiose plans.”

“I would think that he’d have planned against that,” Sarah Jane agreed. “Anyway. Thank you for letting he and I catch up. If you need my help with anything, let me know.”

Sarah Jane took a minute to settle herself and forget about what Rose had just told her. She loved this old man more than she ever cared to admit, but by God his life was complicated. She gave herself a shake that went from her heat to her feet and straightened up. She put a smile on her face and walked around the corner and into the living room. Her forced stoic stature fell into a soft expression of adoration when she saw him on the couch with his daughter. The little one was straddled over his knees with her hands on his chest as she babbled happily away in a language that Sarah Jane couldn’t understand at all. The Doctor, well, he looked completely entranced and fascinated by the little one’s chatter. His arms were loosely looped around her hips and cradled together behind her back. He nodded as she spoke, offering short replies or simply speaking with his eyes and brows, which seemed to amuse the child.

“You’re a natural,” Sarah Jane mused, taking a seat beside him on the couch. “Makes me wonder why you’ve never actually become a father before..”

“I’ve been a father before,” he admitted. “I’m also a grandfather and a great grandfather.” He pulled a new face a the little girl, grinning at her laughter. “That was all long before I met you, of course. I was a grandfather before I left Gallifrey – took my Granddaughter Susan with me on my travels”

“Goodness,” she said with a gasp. Honestly, she hadn’t expected that. “That makes my comment about you being an old man even more accurate.”

His head lifted and he let out a booming laugh. “Oh, my dear Sarah Jane, you have no idea.” He lifted his eyes to the ceiling. “I was in my seventh century before I met you. My third body.”

“Where are you now?”

“Ninth incarnation,” he answered her softly. “Only three left in me. If this war doesn’t settle down soon, I might use them all up before it’s over.”

“You don’t,” she assured him with a smile. 

“Ahhh,” he breathed out knowingly. “I imagine that means you’ve met a future me already.”

“It does.”

He turned his head to her with a smile. “Tell me, do I at least look a little younger than I do now.” He looked back to Alirra. “I look so old, don’t I, little one? Of course I do. I _am_ so old now.” He lifted his hand and looked at the wrinkled back of it. “I don’t expect a regeneration to be too far away for me.”

Sarah Jane turned in her seat to face him. She leaned her elbow on the top of the couch to rest her head against her fist. “What would the point of regenerating be if you didn’t come back a younger version each time, hmm?” 

“That is a very good point,” he admitted with a nod of his head. “It’s good to know that I move on, though. Very good to know.”

“You’re still a good man,” she assured him with a smile. “The you I know now is still alive with hope and wonder. Still defending the universe.”

“And you?” he asked with a shift of his head, and a slight movement in his seat to better face her. “Are you still changing the world?”

“Would you expect any less of me?” she queried with a wink. Her eyes dropped to his shoulder, and to little fingers toying with his scarf. “I am still searching for and reporting the truth.” She smiled and lifted her eyes. “Still getting into mischief and stirring the pot.”

“Wonderful,” he breathed out with admiration. “That’s very good to hear. I do often wonder how my companions fare once they leave the TARDIS.”

“Then check up on us more often,” she suggested. “And you don’t have to wonder any more.”

There was a gentle clink of crockery, which had both of them look up. Rose stood rather awkwardly across the coffee table, a tray of tea and biscuits in her hands. “Sorry to interrupt,” she murmured sheepishly. “I’ll just leave these here for you.”

Sarah Jane looked at the tray, and then back up to Rose. “You’ve only got two cups on that tray.”

“There are only two of you,” Rose observed quietly. “I don’t want to intrude.” She took a glass bottle filled with formula off the tray and tipped her head toward the little dark haired girl playing in a small play-pen. “Feeding time for the little darling.” She held her hand out to Alirra. “Want to help me out, baby? You can feed her if you like.”

Alirra’s eyes blinked excitedly. She looked toward her father with apology in her eyes and spoke to him as she petted his chest in a manner that could have been interpreted as a little bit condescending. She then scrambled off his knee, looked up at him with an order that he wasn’t to leave, and then held her hand up to take her mothers’. She spoke happily and actually skipped a little as they walked toward the very edge of the room.

The Doctor watched them with fascination. He was intrigued to see Lady Rose pick up the tiny little girl from the play pen, settle her elder child on her knee, and then adjust them to allow the tiny one to lay comfortably across Alirra’s knees. The young girl took great pride in feeding her sister and joined in with the soft song of their mother as she tended to them both.

“Motherhood is amazing,” he noted gently. “There is no greater love in the entire universe than that of a mother, is there?”

Sarah Jane regarded him with a tender look. “As is the love of a father.”

“I imagine his hearts beat for them,” he said. “If his daughter’s love is any indication. I almost wish …” he chuckled and shook his head. “Romantic thinking,” he cursed under his breath. “I think this war has beaten me beyond rational thought.”

“As though you ever had it to now,” Sarah Jane teased. He leaned forward and poured them both a cup, looking up to him in silent request as to how he took it.

“Black,” he answered without being asked. “I’ve gotten used to straight tea out in the field – that is when we can get it.”

“Spoil yourself,” she challenged him. “Milk and sugar and even honey on this tray.”

“If I do that, I’ll stick around and never leave,” he laughed. “My TARDIS for a decent cup of English tea.” He drew back a small sip and then leaned back with a groan. “Oh, I should have thought before I made that offer.”

“I have enough here already,” Rose quipped. “You can keep yours.”

“How about you take a trip with me in thanks when this war is over, instead?” He offered with a smile. He didn’t see the fall in her expression as her face was hidden by the blonde hair of her child. “The tea is good enough for that at the very least.”

“Best you don’t make that offer,” Sarah Jane whispered almost urgently, when she heard Rose’s light whimper. “It .. ehm … It could be misinterpreted.”

His eyes flashed wide. “Oh. Yes. Indeed.” He leaned forward to look across Sarah Jane toward Rose. “No ill-intentions implied, of course. More just a gesture of appreciation than a true offer, of course. You understand.”

“Perfectly understood,” Rose said softly. She didn’t look up as she started to sing softly to the feeding child once more.

“So do you intend on staying around long?” Sarah Jane asked, drawing his attention back to her. 

He leaned back into the cushions. “Not too long,” he breathed out almost gruffly. “A few of my squadron needed transportation here from the field when the medical capsule couldn’t get through. I offered to transport them here for treatment. Took a hit myself in the shoulder, which makes for handling the firearms painful.” He rolled his shoulder. “A break is needed, even if only for a few hours.”

Sarah Jane moved forward quickly. She moved her hands to his shoulder, prepared to assist in removing his jacket. “You’re wounded? Let me take a look at it.”

“Not wounded per se,” he said, pulling himself away and grabbing his lapel to close his jacket. It was clear he didn’t want to be examined or touched in any way. “Lazer hit, not shrapnel. There’s no wound to be seen, and certainly nothing to be treated. It’s just sore, nothing more than that.” His eyes flicked to the hallway. “My men and women, on the other hand, they’re the ones needing treatment before I can consider taking them back out.”

“I still think it would be best to have a doctor take a look at it.”

He smiled. “I am a doctor.”

“No,” she corrected him. “You’re _the_ Doctor. Little bit of a difference there.” She shook her head with her eyes lifted to the ceiling. “You never change. Still think you’re the reigning authority on all that matters and think you’re smarter and know better than everyone else.”

“That’s because I usually do,” he countered with a shrug. “No need to change if nothing’s changed to justify it.” He drew in a sip of tea and swallowed it with an appreciative exhale. “The same seems to ring true out there on the battlefield. These young soldiers, they’re all eager to get out there, thinking they know it all. After a hit or regeneration, they learn it’s not as easy as they think it is … leaves me to be the brains of the unit to get it done.” He looked down at the cup. “No one knows the Daleks better than I do …” he smiled to her. “Or even you, for that matter. We faced them well together, didn’t we? You, me, and Harry.”

Sarah Jane shuddered. “Not a distinction I like too much: being more knowledgeable about the Daleks than anyone else.” She looked across to Rose, wondering just how much experience she’d had against the killer pepper pots. 

“Sill,” me managed out, not noticing Sarah Jane’s momentary lack of attention. “Might be nice to have someone by my side who has experience.”

“I’m far too old to start that back up again.”

He shook his head. “That wasn’t an invitation for you to join me,” he clarified. “There is no way I would let anyone who is in my hearts join me out there.” His smile was absent. “I can’t form attachments at all, Sarah Jane. Not like I used to. Leading soldiers into battle, men and women I barely know, is tough enough.” He lifted a hand and touched his fingertips to her cheek. “I couldn’t imagine how much it would hurt me to have someone like you at my side.”

She lifted her hand to hold his at her face. She closed her eyes to enjoy the cool touch of his hand against her cheek. “Still in your hearts then, old man?”

“Always,” he breathed affectionately. “ _My_ Sarah Jane. The very best and most unforgettable of anyone who’s come into my life over the years.”

She heard a light hiccup from the armchair and felt immediate guilt. She let the Doctor’s hand fall from her face and turned toward Rose. “Oh God, Rose… I’m sorry.”

Rose faked a chuckle. “What do you have to be sorry for?” she asked with a forced smile as she stood up, holding both children in her arms, a position that made her daughter laugh. “I – I’m going to bathe these two little beauties. When Bra… I mean when the Cardinal comes back, and you tell him I’m just upstairs?”

“Will do,” she answered with a wince in her brow. She lowered her head and gave it a quick shake.

“She seems quite upset,” the Doctor remarked curiously. 

“Rose is just tired,” Sarah Jane offered on little more than a whisper. “This war has been just as tough on her and her family than it has anyone, I suppose.”

“It’s tough on all of us,” he agreed with a nod. “So many lost.” He exhaled hard. “And still so much more to lose as it moves on.” 

“I’m sorry,” she offered weakly.

“So am I.” his head flicked up at the sound of a capsule materialising in the hallway, just in front of the Archway. His head tilted to one side as the steady pulse of it’s arrival, it’s shift from transparency to opacity, allowed him to easily identify the pilot. “Braxiatel,” he whispered curiously as he lifted himself to his feet and folded his arms across his chest to greet the brother he hadn’t seen for almost three centuries.

Sarah Jane stood up beside him, watching as the door opened and a disheveled Irving Braxiatel half stumbled out of the doorway. “Well. That was quick,” she muttered. “All taken care of, then?”

“Time machine,” he reminded her with a wink, stepping out of the ship and walking toward the living room. He didn’t bother to tuck his Oxford into his trousers, nor straighten the mess that had become his hair. “You’d be surprised what can be accomplished by a decent capsule pilot inside a minute of your timeline.”

“Shame you aren’t one,” the Doctor gruffed out. He eyed him up and down with annoyance. “Put yourself together, for Rassilon’s sake. You look an absolute mess.”

He flicked up a finger. “I do nothing for the sake of Rassilon, thank you all the same.” His eyes twitched, and then focused on the man in front of him. An expression of worry crossed his features. “Oh, Hell. Thete?”

“Yes,” he gruffed. 

“What are _you_ doing here?”

“How about you tuck in your shirt and attempt to try for a little dignity before we have this conversation,” he said with a huff. “At the very least, do up your trousers.”

Braxiatel sniffed and unashamedly undid the fly on his trousers to tuck in his Oxford. “Like you can talk,” he said with a sniff. “Look like you haven’t showered in a decade. I can smell you from here.”

“Which is what happens when you’re on active field duty,” he argued. “Not that you’d know, hiding out here as far from the war as you can.”

“I’ve been on the field often enough,” he growled. “Taken out a lot more Daleks that you’d think to give me credit for.” He finished tucking in his shirt and fastened his trousers. “Forgive my need to take a day’s break every year or so to check on my fam … to check on Rose and the children.”

“Never figured you to be the tender type,” the Doctor remarked with a curious tone and a pinch in his eye. “I’ve certainly never had a check-in visit from you in all of my years.”

“I made a vow to her husband and those children’s father that I would be there for them,” he admitted softly. “I’m a lot of things, Thete, but I and not a man who will go back on my word.”

“No,” he agreed, his firm and almost aggressive stance softening. “You aren’t.”

Braxiatel looked toward Sarah Jane, his eyes full of urgency. “Speaking of. Rose. Where is she?” He drew in a breath. “And has she…?”

Sarah Jane nodded with a slight wince on her face. “She told me to tell you she’s upstairs.”

“Thank you,” he turned and fled into the hallway. The thundering footfalls on the stairs were heard clearly by Sarah Jane and the Doctor. The later of which actually flinched at the sound, too much like the sounds of gunfire on Gallifrey.

“If I didn’t know any better,” he muttered underneath his breath. “I’d say the old boy had grown a pair of hearts in his chest.” His eyes flicked back to the capsule as Romana exited. Looking as regal and perfectly put together and as beautiful as ever, he blew out a breath of appreciation. He held of bowing to her when she crossed the floor toward them, but only because he didn’t know if he would be able to stand back up – such was the ache in his bones right now. “Romana,” he greeted affectionately. “You look lovely.”

A look of horror crossed her face. “Doctor?” she gasped out.

“Usually people are a little happier to see me,” he said with a confused huff. How brows lifted as he rethought that statement. “No. This is a much more accurate representation of how my kind react in my presence…”

“Yes,” Romana said with a smile. “It’s lovely to see you, Doctor. I would very much appreciate the opportunity to catch up with you in a short moment. Just right now…” She looked to Sarah Jane. “Where’s Rose?”

“Upstairs with Braxiatel,” the Doctor answered flatly.

“Thank you,” she breezed thankfully. Then she turned and fled as well.

The Doctor was left somewhat at unease. While he might expect his brother to take flight from his presence, usually Romana was much more welcoming. He scratched at his hair and noted that, yes, it was a little on the dusty, dirty side of clean. “I suppose Braxiatel was right,” he mused with a smell of his jacket and a quick nose toward his armpit. “I might be overdue for a shower.”

“You smell fine,” Sarah Jane assured him with a smile. “Rose had sent the both of them out on an errand. I guess they’re both eager to let her know about it.”

He wasn’t quite convinced. “I’m sure that’s it,” he breathed out with a curious tone. He looked to her with a slight light in his eye that was reminiscent of his Fourth body. “Do you happen to know what the errand was?” 

“I happen to know that it’s none of your business,” she cautioned him with a smile. “So turn off that suspicious, curious little streak you’ve got and come back to the couch.” She grabbed the crook of his arm. “There’s so much more we need to catch up on.”

His eyes were on the hallway, but he let her drag him back to the couch. “Yes,” he said with a pet of his fingers on her hand. “Yes, we do.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Rose hadn’t moved much further than putting both girls into an empty bathtub, before she collapsed against the edge of the tub. Knowing that she was within sight and earshot of the kids, she folded her arms along the top of the tub, dropped her head down within the circle of her arms and let out a series of silent sobs. Her entire body shook as she desperately tried to suppress it and hide her pain from the girls, but struggled to be able to. It took a long moment, and many gulping breaths before she felt gentel little hands on her head.

“Mama?”

That was Alirra’s little voice, still slightly croaky and scratchy from not having been used in two years. She couldn’t’ ignore that tiny request, not when she hadn’t asked for her mother’s attention in such a way for such a long, long time. She inhaled a deep breath and settled herself as much as she possibly could and then lifted her head up. She was so close to Alirra’s nose that they bumped lightly.

“Sorry, baby,” she managed weakly.

“Mama sad?” She made a small sound like a coo and wrapped her arms around her mother’s head. “Don’t be sad.”

“I’m okay, sweetheart,” she assured her with as best a smile she could manage. “I’m just so happy to hear your voice, that’s all.” She stroked her thumb over Alirra’s cheek. “You have such a beautiful voice.”

She grabbed the rubber plug for the tub from a small dish at its edge and pushed it into the drain. Without quite looking at the two girls, she turned on the taps. “Now let’s get my little Time Ladies all clean, shall we?”

“Mama?”

Rose looked toward her daughter, her brows lifted in question.

“Still dressed,” Alirra advised her, holding out the bib of her coveralls. Typically, Rose had the girls bare before she even put them in the tub and now here they both were, water soaking socks and a little nappied bottom. She held both of her hands over her mouth, desperate to hold back another wracking sob. She needed to uncover her mouth to turn off the taps, but found herself unable to move.

Soft red cotton fabric swept over her hair, and she felt a hand on her shoulder as Braxiatel leaned over her to turn off the tap. He said nothing as he grabbed her under her shoulders and pulled her up with him into a stand. He released the harsh grip under her arms to hold her tightly into his chest. “It’s okay,” he said to her finally. “Break. I’ve got you.”

“I can’t,” she whimpered out, struggling to maintain control in front of her girls. “Not in front of them.”

“Gods, Rose,” he half growled. “You don’t need to hide from them.” 

“Yes I do,” she struggled to get out of his hold, but found herself trapped. “Brax. It’s okay. I’m okay. Just need a quick breather, that’s all.”

He turned his head and called loudly for his wife, who he could already hear was on her way up. He gestured toward the tub when she popped her head around the door. “Would you mind, Dear?”

“Of course,” she said with a nod. “Get her out of here.” She waved him away when she knelt down and gave both girls a big wide smile. “Well this isn’t the correct order of things when we need to take a bath, is it? How about we get those soggy clothes off you?”

Braxiatel near hauled Rose from the bathroom and across the hallway toward her bedroom. He was far from gentle, but not quite rough when he got them through her bedroom door and walked them both toward her bed.

“He-He’s here,” she said with gulping breaths, still fighting a breakdown. “And he doesn’t know me … Didn’t even know his daughter.” She heaved a few breaths, scared to look up at him. “His own daughter.”

Braxiatel didn’t take a seat next to her on her bed. He merely leaned down over her, his hands pressed into her knees. “Look at me, Rose,” he said softly.

Her voice was a whisper. “I can’t,” she said pathetically and looked off to one side. She didn’t want to look into his sympathetic, patient eyes. She couldn’t. She knew if she did, she’d break. “I can’t…”

He crouched in front of her. “Rose. We knew he wouldn’t, he couldn’t know who you are.”

“His own daughter,” she repeated, finally moving her eyes to his. “She was in his arms, calling him Papa, and he still didn’t know her.”

“Oh hell,” he muttered, one hand moving to cover his face.

“Him not remembering me, I can handle that…” She winced. “Well, okay I can’t.” She started to inhale deeply. “But his little girl? Brax, he adored Aly, worshipped the ground she crawled on. She was his entire world, both of his hearts.” Her voice shifted to devastated weakness. “He didn’t show even a little bit of recognition. _His baby girl_.”

“And trust me, Rose, when he finally does remember all this, and how he couldn’t even get a small spark of recognition from her, from you … it’ll kill him.” He cupped her face in his hand. “Him not remembering now isn’t because his hearts don’t beat for you.”

“But they don’t,” she argued. “That’s the thing. They don’t beat for us, any of us. Not anymore!” She panted, her face tight and contorted. “He remembered Sarah Jane. Remembered everything about their time together.” She looked at him desperately. “But not us… not us …” her voice dropped to a quiet whisper. “It’s not fair.”

She finally looked to break down, and Braxiatel rubbed at her knees to encourage it. Rose hadn’t released properly since their parting. It was long overdue. “Let it out, Rose. For the love of all the Gods in the universe, let it out.”

She shook her head. “I can’t.” She held her hands over her face, her eyes, and then dragged them heavily down so that her fingertips were just under her lip. “I won’t give her that. I won’t give that manipulative bitch who destroyed my family the satisfaction.”

“That’s not healthy,” he challenged her. He straightened up to a stand. “Would you rather she made you ill, Rose, or drove you toward a path of no return? Because that’s what going to happen if you don’t let yourself release that anger, pain and frustration.”

She glared up at him. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Never mind,” he huffed. 

“No,” she growled. “You opened that can, Brax. You better spill it.”

He snapped his attention to her. “Rose. The Master is out there, as is the version of Thete who does remember you, and who is eager enough to find you that he’s recruited people.”

“And you think I’ll break out of here and go find them, don’t you?” She caught his sideward look. “Don’t be stupid,” she snarled. “I promised you I wouldn’t do that. And I won’t.”

He slouched slightly backward. “You’ve come so far,” he said with a half whimper. “and now we’re so close.” His hands lifted to cover his face, still levered up to face the ceiling. “And _he_ has to show up and turn it all to hell. Worse, that he had to show up twice! Two of him.” He grunted and dropped his hands to slump forward. “What’s the bet they’ll all damn well show up all at the same time. All 13 of him.”

She petted the mattress at her side. “Please don’t tempt the universe like that, Brax.”

He took a seat beside her and thread his arm across her shoulder, pulling her toward him so that her head tucked underneath his chin. “Not even the universe would let that happen,” he said with a huff. “Are you going to be capable of having him here, Rose, or should I tell him to leave?”

“If you tell him to leave,” she sighed. “Then he’ll just get suspicious and start nosing about wondering what you’re up to.”

“You say that like I haven’t had to put up with him skulking about all tenacious, sneaky, and nosy for my entire lives,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m one of the very few people in this universe – if not the only one – capable of countering that side of him.” He grinned on one side of his mouth. “Or tripping him up with a well placed mental booby trap.”

Rose let out a short laugh at that. “I’ve no doubt.” Then she drew in a breath and closed her eyes. “I love him, Brax.”

“I know, Rose.”

“I miss him.”

“I know.”

“I need him.” She sniffed. “I need him so damn much it hurts.’

“I’m so sorry.”

She nestled at his side, her face tightening with emotion. “Okay. Um. Are you okay if I cry just a little bit?”

He wrapped his arm around her, drawing her into a hug. “Cry a lot if you want,” he offered. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

The Doctor turned away from the small slit of the door. He’d gone upstairs with the intent to use the bathroom, but got caught by quiet conversation between his brother and the Lady Rose in what he assumed must have been her bedroom. He hadn’t heard a great deal of the conversation, only toward the end when she spoke of her love and her need of her late husband. Her pain was palpable, and he felt that pain deep, deep inside his very soul. 

His brother’s care and understanding was curious to say the least. He didn’t often consider old Braxiatel to have care for anyone other than himself. To see him so tender and caring toward another – and toward a human no less – did flick that little curiosity switch that Sarah Jane has asked he keep in the “off” position. Whoever the Lord was that took himself a human bride, he was obviously a Lord that Braxiatel cared very deeply for. So much so that he was willing to step up and take on the responsibility of another man’s family, despite already being a mated Lord himself.

He wondered just who this Lord had to be … All of the ones he could think of were thought of with disdain and annoyance by old Brax…

…Curious.

He passed by a framed photograph on the wall, hosting a picture of a happy family. He guessed it would likely consist of: Mum and Dad. Two kids. Two dogs…. Quite possibly the owners of a small house with a white picket fence and two cars as well, perhaps? He pulled a dusty pair of glasses from his coat pocket and rubbed the lenses with his scarf before sliding them on. Even with the glasses on his nose, he squinted to take a decent look at the photo hidden within the shadows. Sure enough, Two kids, two dogs, and a mum and dad.

Lady Rose, he recognised immediately. She had a beaming grin on her face, which he had to admit was beautiful to look at. Alirra was quite obviously the baby in the picture. A young boy grinned cheekily with an exaggerated stretch of his lips over his teeth, and an almost unnatural widening of his eyes. His eyes then shifted to the father, and the Lord who was loved beyond all measure by his Human wife, and his breath caught deep…

It had been a long time since his eyes were a smoky blue, and much longer since his hair had that kind of wild bounce and curl to it, but there was no doubt in his mind that the man who looked back at him from the photograph was himself in his last body…

…But how?

~~oooOOOooo~~


	76. Clerrulin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuff happens ....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday... Noone would leave me alone today and therefore I didn't get anywhere near what I wanted done today...
> 
> How to describe this one? Ehm ... I'll let you decide... 
> 
> And yes, I know Rose is being a lil selfish here... Just remember what mental place she's in right now before you judge her for it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

~~oooOOOooo~~

Despite accusations otherwise, one thing that the Time Lord Doctor was very good at was mental multitasking. Granted, in previous incarnations he was considered inattentive because he had a mind that ran a mile-a-second, but that was simply a carefully crafted reputation on his part. He was wholly capable of focusing on many things at once. He took great pride in his ability to appear completely disinterested and ignorant toward all goings ons outside of his task of the moment … He learned a lot of things that way. People were more likely to talk and slip up if they thought he wasn’t listening…

…But he was. He always was. Very little escaped his notice.

This ability of his to be so effective in thinking about and focusing on several things at once had only heightened since he regenerated into this body. Part of shifting into a warrior form, he suspected. He would have regenerated at least twice since the start of the war if he wasn’t listening. He would have also lost a lot more of his teams if he wasn’t listening and focusing on all of them as well.

It was serving him quite well now, actually. Sarah Jane was happily conversing with him to his right. He was watching the shadowed movements through the kitchen door to his left. He watched two white Gallifreyan wolves napping together in the corner of the room – and oh, did he have a few questions about just how such dangerous creatures were allowed to be in the presence of young children and traumatised refugees. He was also focused on the stairs he could see through the arched doorway into the hall in wait for his brother to return.

He certainly had a question or fifty to pose to the old boy. Of course, he was of the mind not to ask anything at all despite his burning curiosity and need to have each and every one of the answers he sought. This latest and quite frankly horrific revelation was one that had been very deliberately hidden from him. There had to be a reason for it and whatever reason it was … Well, it was something that he was obviously unable to fight against…

…And that terrified him. He never considered himself capable of falling in love and becoming a family man, but the photograph he saw in the hallway told him that he’d done just that. The man in that photo looked to be blissfully happy and very much besotted not only toward his wife, but to the two children that were wrapped around him. But look at him now, a man who couldn’t even recall having created a family to begin with, let alone be so clearly in love with them. A man who was completely alone and damaged so far beyond recovery. Had he abandoned them, run, and then driven himself to forget it all?

It made sense as much as it didn’t.

There was nothing in his mind at all to link himself to Lady Rose and her children in any way. There were no shadows or lingering ghosts of a suppressed memory. Nothing. While he did believe that young child he now knew to be his daughter was one of the most adorable little creatures in all of creation, he felt absolutely nothing for her that would indicate any form of familial connection. She was a child born of the womb, that much he could definitely sense. She was not created via loom. That would mean that he had to sire the youngster from his own loins, which was something that was a physical impossibility without a solid marriage bond with her mother… a marriage bond they clearly did not have. And that wasn’t something that could ever be suppressed or forgotten about. It was a living, breathing, mental connection that was unbreakable except for death.

…And both of them were quite obviously very much alive.

Call him stymied, and very annoyed and frustrated for it.

So, yes, he wanted answers and he wanted them now, but at the same time, he wanted to remain ignorant to it all. He was a man who did a lot of things that we wasn’t proud of, but he was not a man who heartlessly abandoned those who depended on him. If he knew that was that man, someone who had been capable of something as deplorable as abandoning his family, then that would destroy what little was left of him.

His eyes flicked upward toward the sound of feet descending the stairs. It took effort not to rise up to a stand to greet them, and then haul his brother by the scruff of his neck into the corner to get his answers, but he managed to remain on his arse. Instead he watched Braxiatel escort the Lady Rose into the room. His arm was over her shoulder in a very intimate and familiar way, and he spoke against her temple as they walked. She had one arm looped around his back and her other hand on his chest in between his two hearts. Despite red-rimmed eyes that suggested upset, she smiled and chuckled in response to whatever he was saying to her.

They both stopped in the doorway. Braxiatel scanned the room in a search for somewhere to sit – likely as far away from his brother as was possible. Rose briefly looked toward the Doctor. Her eyes met his, then pinched slightly and quickly shifted away from him and toward the tray on the coffee table.

“How’s the tea situation?” she asked with almost forced friendliness. “Should I make another pot?”

Braxiatel unwrapped himself from her and slipped his hands into his trouser pockets. “I’ll take a bottle of Magnolia wine if you’re getting some,” he sang out as he flopped sideways onto the only available armchair in the room. He shifted to a more acceptable seated position with a flick of his legs, but still maintained a comfortable slouch against one of the armrests.

“Well I wasn’t thinking of wine,” Rose said with a shrug. “But, sure.” Her eyes shifted to Sarah Jane. “Tea? Or are you one the same mindset as Brax and want something with a little more oomph?” Her eyes shifted to the Doctor, and she offered him a carefully schooled and fairly detached look. “And you, Lord Doctor. What can I get for you?”

His eyes pinched a little and he tipped his chin curiously. “You really shouldn’t be put out like this,” he managed. “Least of all by that fool.” He flicked his hand toward his brother. “He’s got legs and a double heartbeat, he’s more than capable of getting his own drink.”

She wanted to smile and chuckle at the hand gesture Braxiatel gave by way of reply to that comment. While it was not the typical gesture used by the people of Earth, it was definitely one with similar meaning to their people. The expression that the Doctor’s face moved into was priceless in how shocked he was by it. God, she missed this banter between the two of them.

“I’m on my way into the kitchen anyway to check on dinner,” she assure him. “So Lord Doctor, if there’s something you need, I’m happy to get it for you.” She put her hand down heavily on Braxiatel’s shoulder. “As I am happy to get whatever this _fool_ wants.”

“I say he’s far more capable of getting it himself,” the Doctor argued with an annoyed glare toward his brother. “You’re not his slave.” 

“As a warning to you, Lord Doctor. I’ll take it as a personal insult if you continue to argue with me on it,” she countered flatly. “This is my home, and _in_ my home, I will see to the needs of my guests and not have any of them told otherwise or be made to feel uncomfortable about it.” Her eyes issued him challenge. “Am I understood?”

A brow lifted over his eye and he offered her a small smile. Well she had a bit of spark in her, didn’t she? His eyes darkened toward his brother to see Braxiatel mouth out: Rose: 1, You: 0, forming a perfect circle with his thumb and finger to accent that score.

Rose either didn’t see Braxiatel’s cheek, or she was ignoring it in favour of keeping a challenging eye on him. “Well, Doctor?” she pressed. “Are we clear on that?”

“Perfectly so,” he answered finally. “I may join Braxiatel in that wine if it isn’t too much bother.” He looked to his brother. “Magnolia wine? Haven’t touched any of that in a lifetime.”

“Got a decent stockpile of Vintage here,” he said with a wink. “From the vineyard that bordered Rose and …ehm … her husband’s property. No better wine of the entire planet.”

“At least not now,” the Doctor said with a sigh. “No vineyards or orchards left at all. All gone now.”

Rose gasped in horror at the thought that her home and their orchard was gone. She let out a short whimper that shifted into a yelp as her eldest child shoved by her in an eager run up stairs. “Mark!”

“In a hurry,” he called back without apology.

“Not in too much of a hurry to use your manners,” she snapped. “I didn’t raise you to be that rude.”

“Yeah yeah,” he answered back as he hauled open the cupboard under the stairs to rummage. “Guess that bit of parenting failed…”

Braxiatel’s slouch shifted quickly to a straight up seat in the armchair. “Mark!” he called out with warning. “Come here.”

“Busy right now,” the youngster chipped back.

“That was not a request, Marktrukketatoctralungbarrowmas,” he growled hotly. “Now do as you’re told and get in here, young Lord.”

Mark reluctantly stalked into the room. His head was down into sunken shoulders and his face wore the petulant expression of a youngster who wanted to be anywhere but where he was in that moment. He inhaled deeply when he stood in front of the armchair and looked at his uncle. “Do you really think it was necessary to use my whole name?” He flicked his hand to the door behind him. “My friends are listening, you know.”

Braxiatel leaned forward in the chair and leaned an elbow across one of his knees to bring himself down to Mark’s eye level. He pressed a fist into his other knee to more comfortably hold the lean. “Are they? Oh good. Then maybe they’ll get a lesson in what repercussions come to little Lords who don’t respect their mother.”

He blinked at him and tried very hard not to show reaction. “Which is?”

“Which is you going upstairs and not coming down until tomorrow,” he ordered calmly. “You have homework to complete, which I know you haven’t done yet. So you will sit upstairs, do your work, and read another three chapters of whatever books your teacher has you reading.” He leaned down a little further. “And then, when you’re finished. I want you to write a letter of apology to your mother for acting no better than a herd of Broakir on a stampede. I want it written in Arcadian, Gallifreyan, _and_ English.”

“But that’ll take me all night,” he whined with a stomp of his foot. “That’s not fair.”

“It might not be,” Braxiatel said with a shrug. “But neither is the way you run into your mother without apologising, and then brushed her off like she was nothing.” His eyes flicked briefly to his brother, who was watching the interaction with what seemed to be rapt fascination. “She deserves better than that from you.”

“There isn’t much in the universe that I’ll agree with my Brother on,” the Doctor added. “But I agree with him on this issue, young Lord. You should apologise to your mother.”

Mark’s eyes narrowed with absolute annoyance. He spun to huff a snap to the stranger that he should mind his own business. He opened his mouth to argue, but found himself inhaling a breath that was deep, far too deep, deep enough that he held his chest and staggered back onto his uncle’s knee. “D-Dad?”

The Doctor’s eyes shifted from Mark and toward his brother. There was obvious question inside those intense brown eyes, but Braxiatel did his best not to flinch under that gaze. He held the child on his knee and soke against his ear. “No,” he said after a moment. “He’s not your Dad.”

“But…”

“But no,” he said firmly. “I’m sorry, Mark. But that’s not him …” his voice dropped to a whisper against the boy’s head. Words that only the tow of them heard. “At least not yet.”

Realisation hit and Mark slouched. His head dropped to put his chin on his chest. “I understand,” he said sadly. He turned on his uncle’s knee and gave him a hug. “I’m sorry, Uncle Brax. I – I’ll go upstairs and … and…”

“It’s okay,” he assured him softly. “Go on up, we’ll check on you a little later.”

Mark climbed off his uncle’s knee and turned toward the couch. He briefly looked toward the Doctor with pain in his green eyes, “I’m sorry for the intrusion,” he managed quietly, and then turned on his foot to walk into the hallway where his mother waited. The youngster embraced his mother, holding her tightly and speaking softly to her.

The Doctor watched with somewhat darkened curiosity. At his side, Sarah Jane let out a wavered breath, but she didn’t say anything. He looked toward Sarah Jane and then back to his brother. “The child has our family name,” he noted with definite suspicion in his voice. 

Brax sniffed. “Don’t read into that,” he answered. “And if you think for a second I’d step up and take one of their loomlings under my wing, then you really don’t know me all that well, do you?”

“I’m beginning to think I don’t,” he answered. His eyes then looked up at the hallway, now clear of both Rose and Mark. “You’ve taken to fatherhood quite well, which is the exact opposite of what I’d expect from you.”

“Uncle,” he corrected. “I can’t ever hope, nor would I ever even consider, stepping in as their father.”

“You must have cared for their father.”

“I care for _her_ ,” he answered without pause. “And I care for the children. Indeed, the Lord who sired those children is a man I respect more than any other.” He thumbed at his nose. “But I do this for them, not for him. Rose and those kids didn’t deserve what happened. They were the innocent collateral damage of a power greater than all of us.” He propped his head up on his fist with an elbow on the arm rest. “And how she hasn’t fallen apart over it, I don’t know. If the same happened to Romana and I, I’d tear this universe apart completely.”

“As would I, I imagine,” the Doctor breathed out with a crease in his brow.

Braxiatel laughed at that. “No, Thete. No you wouldn’t.” He waved a hand. “You’re all about the greater good of the Universe and making sure it all runs on a perfect track.” He half growled his exhale. “You’d sacrifice it all to protect it all.”

“You say that as if you’ve seen me do just that,” he challenged with a pinch in his eyes.

“I have,” he growled. “Your entire bloody lives you’ve been doing that. Damn well risk your own life for it and all.” He shot up out of the chair. “No stopping you, either,” he snarled as he paced. “Sneaky tenacious bastard that you are, you find the holes, run in blind and try and save everyone but yourself.”

“And where’s this coming from, then?” he said with a growl of his own. “Have you got something to tell me, Brax?”

Braxiatel lifted his head to the ceiling and let out a quiet laugh. “Oh, Thete. I’ve been trying to tell you since the moment you stole a capsule, gave it a pretty name, then ran off with Susan.” He flicked his hand at him. “But you’ve never listened to me. Even when I try and warn you that you’re facing a forced regeneration for going against the laws of our people, so stay the hell away from Gallifrey until I can sort it out, you just thumb your nose at it, at me, at society, and keep right on at it.”

The Doctor finally lifted to a stand himself. “Braxiatel,” he snarled. “If you’ve got something specific that you think I need to know, then tell me. Don’t walk around the bushes, man, cut straight to it.”

Braxiatel turned slowly and offered his brother a look of challenge. “And what do you think I need to tell you that I haven’t already, brother?” He took a stride closer to him. “What could I possibly say to you now that would be any different to anything I’ve tried to tell you before? Hmmmm?” He folded his arms across his chest. “Nothing I can say to you – nothing I’ve _ever_ been able to say to you – will change you and your damn mission of making the universe right.”

The Doctor adopted a mirror of his brother’s position. “You might be surprised.”

“One thing you’re actually incapable of is surprising me, Thete,” he huffed in reply. “You don’t change, and you never will. You’re an ignorant, bullheaded, arrogant fool who thinks he’s the only one capable of making the universe turn.” He drew in a breath and put his hands on the Doctor’s shoulder. He lowered his voice and looked his brother in the eye. “Despite what you think, the universe is capable of surviving without your interference.”

“Despite what _you_ think,” he countered. “I don’t want to interfere. I just happen to end up in wrong places at wrong times and have no choice in it.”

Braxiatel dropped his arms with a huff. His face tightened up with frustration. “That’s where you’re wrong, Thete. There’s always a choice … you just don’t know how to make the right one.”

“Subjective,” he said with a huff. “Just because _you_ don’t think I make the right ones, doesn’t mean it isn’t for someone else.”

“Arrogant,” Braxiatel snipped. “As always. You think you know better than anyone else. All the damn time.”

“What are you two arguing about now,” Romana cut in with a long suffering huff. “In case either of you have forgotten, we do have a visitor here, who doesn’t need to see the Lungbarrow laundry…”

“Not quite sure what that means, Darling,” Braxiatel said with a smirk as he backed away from his brother with a rather different attitude now that his wife was in the room. All frustration and annoyance was gone when he saw two clean little ladies attached to his wife. “My little darlings.”

Sarah Jane chuckled lightly. “I think Romana means to say that you shouldn’t air your dirty laundry in front of visitors.”

“Why would anyone do that,” Braxiatel asked with a look toward his brother as he took the youngest of the girls and cuddled her into his chest. “What does that even mean?”

The Doctor held up both hands. “I have no idea.”

Rose breathlessly entered the conversation. “It means that you shouldn’t argue in front of others and let them know the bad things goin’ on between you.” She hurriedly set two bottles of wine on the table, and pointed to a tray of glasses at the side of the room. She looked to Sarah Jane with apology. “I’m sorry, but they need me to help with a soldier in the med room right now. One of my repeat customers – would you mind?”

“No,” Sarah said eagerly. “Of course not.”

Braxiatel was concerned. “Why are they bothering you, Rose? This is your evening time to spend with family…”

“They’re away from their families,” she argued gently. “Hardly fair that I get all of my evenings with mine.” She straightened up when he looked ready to walk in and make a demand for them to leave her be. She held up her hand. “This is a bad one, Brax. She’s alone. She’s got no one. If she needs a hand to hold, then she’s going to get one, and I’m happy to give it.”

“If you’re sure,” he said gently, fairly sure he knew why she was so eager to take a precious moment away from her family time.

“Not for the reason you think,” she corrected his thoughts. “I just really have to help her through this.”

“Okay,” he said with an almost parental look in his eye. “But don’t be too long.”

“I’ll be as long as I need to be.”

The Doctor stood up. “Perhaps I should join you,” he offered.

She shook her head. “No need, Lord Doctor,” she said sadly. “Please. This is your first chance in a long time to relax and forget about this war. Please take advantage of it.”

She turned to walk to the doorway. She paused to pull in a deep breath to centre herself, and held that breath as she walked toward her kitchen and toward the medical capsule. The moment she opened the kitchen door, she could hear the cries from within the medical capsule. She swallowed, and then slowly let out her breath with every step she took into the capsule.

The approach of total death of any of the soldiers that were brought here was almost always met with silence from everyone else in the room. This one was no different. While the woman on the gurney cried out desperately in pain caused by injuries she would never be able to describe – and quite frankly would never want to – everyone else in the room was markedly silent. The evening doctor, a young field medic who had ended up as a permanent doctor here on Earth after a particularly violent regeneration had taken out his own capsule, lifted his eyes to hers and gave her a slow blink that may as well have been a nod of his head.

“We’ve done what we can,” he said silently as the wailing cries of his patient started to ebb away. “It’s just pain management now.”

Rose held back her own emotion at the words she’d heard way too many times not to understand the full impact of them. She swallowed thickly, took a few deep breaths, and then put on a brave smile. Her hand slipped into the hand of her patient. “Hello, Clerrulin. Long time no see.”

“Lady Rose,” she breathed out wetly. Her breath was heaving and staggered, and blood stained her lips with every shaking exhale. “It’s you. I’ve missed that smile.”

“Oh you little charmer,” she said with a chuckle. “Did you forget I’m a married woman?”

She laughed through her pain. “He’s not here to … hold your hand.” She squeezed Rose’s hand as best she could. “But I … am.”

“I also have two children,” she said with a wink. “and two wolves. Lot’s of baggage, me.”

“Something tells me…” She winced and choked out a series of coughs. “That you’d be worth it.”

Rose stroked her hair. When Clerrulin had regenerated, she’d regenerated with long blonde hair that she insisted was so that she could look like her – a joke between the two of them. Now it was brown and matted with red dirt, orange-red blood, and the green slime of a defeated Kaled. Good, she’d gotten a piece of the Dalek that shot her.

“You’re going to be alright,” she promised her. She flicked her fingers toward a silent nurse in request for a towel to wipe the dirt and blood from Clerrulin’s face. “So maybe we should clean the Dalek goop off your face, yeah?”

“I’m not going to be alright,” Clerrulin corrected her sadly. “I – I don’t have any … regenerations left. I’m going to die.”

Rose took a wettened towel from the nurse with a look of thanks, and then looked down to her patient. She wiped the towel across her forehead. “You’re going to be fine,” she corrected her in a weak voice. “Of course you are.” A tear dribbled out of her eye and down her cheek. “We have a date when this is all over, you and me. We’re going to the amphitheatre, remember? In the Capitol.”

“The Capitol doesn’t … exist anymore,” Clerrulin said sadly. She winced and writhed a little on the gurney. “Soon. I won’t … either.”

“Yes you will,” Rose hissed back. “You will exist, Clerrulin, because …”

Clerrulin touched at the space between Rose’s breasts. “I’m in here, yes?” At Rose’s nod, she touched her own chest. “And you’re in here.” She smiled a broad and bloody smile. “How many … dates we had now .. Rose?”

Rose didn’t have to think of how many times Clerrulin had been on a gurney in the med ship. She, like so many others had been here several times, and Rose could tell each of them exactly how many times she’d held their hands and helped them through their first aid, their surgeries, or even a talk toward and after regeneration. This was Clerrulin’s fifth visit. She was a front line commander and spent more time rescuing her own people than dispatching Daleks. Of course, when she was able to grab a gun and send a few of them back to their maker, the legend was that she was a breathtaking and fearless fighter. They’d formed a friendship almost immediately, and it was one that Rose was going to miss…

“Five,” she answered with a smile. “Five of the most memorable dates I’ve ever been on.”

“Then,” she laughed with a cough and a choke. “Then I did my job … right ...” she coughed again. “Give the Lord Doctor … a run for his money…” her head drew back and she exhaled a long groan.

“You got that right,” Rose said with a smile. She lightly patted a corner of the towel down along her cheek. “So you just hang on, okay? Because we’ve still got lots of dates to go on. You and me, we have to light up Gallifrey and paint the sky mauve.”

“Sounds … wonderful.”

“Brilliant,” she said with a smile.

“You and him,” she said with drooping eyes trying desperately to implore her. “find him … when this is over, Rose. Find him.” She shuddered. “Girl power … don’t wait for him … to find you.”

“I will,” she promised her. “And you can help me.”

She looked up at her with sad eyes. “We both know … I can’t.” She inhaled two deep breaths. “Good bye, Rose… Your smile … makes getting hurt … worth it..”

“Not good bye, Clerrulin,” she ordered her. “Never Goodbye. You hear me.” 

There was no response from her friend.

“Clerrulin,” she choked out. “Talk to me. Come on, hold on.” She rubbed the towel on her friend’s face. “Don’t leave me now. Don’t you dare.” She rubbed more determinedly. “Clerrulin. Talk to me. Come on.”

The young doctor put his hand on her shoulder. “Lady Rose. She’s gone.”

“No she hasn’t,” she growled. “Clerrulin hasn’t gone. She’s not allowed to.”

“I don’t know that you have the authority to give permissions like that,” he said almost dumbly. “We need to prepare her for stasis, Rose.”

“Not till I’ve cleaned her up,” she said with sadness. “She can’t go in looking like this.”

“And she won’t,” he assured her. “Clerrulin is in the Matrix now. There’s nothing you can do.”

Rose staggered backward from the gurney. The towel in her hand fell from her fingers into a heap on the floor at her feet. Numbness overtook her at that moment and she found herself completely unable to move. The Doctors and nurses who had taken over were milling about with professional smoothness able to avoid colliding with her, and even if the couldn’t she didn’t know if she could get out of their way.

She’d been through the final throes of many soldiers who had ended up here on a final incarnation. Many of them just needed a hand to hold, and most often she played the role of a friendly stranger to give them comfort as they crossed into the Matrix. Clerrulin had been special. She’d been with Rose through three regenerations, and one slip into a restorative coma. She was, as Rose put it, one of her regulars… They’d formed quite a close bond.

This one hurt. It cut deep.

She felt a pair of hands on her shoulders that turned her in place to pull her up against a chest. She stood stiffly, swaying just slightly, held in unfamiliar arms.

“I’m very sorry,” said the gruff voice of the man who had been her husband in a different incarnation. “Lady Clerrulin was a brave soldier. She will be missed.”

Rose lifted her head to look at him. Her eyes were blank but wide. “By no one more than me,” she said pitifully.

He dipped his head low, an affectionate move that brought his face alongside hers, close enough to be intimate. “Don’t be afraid to grieve in our presence, Lady Rose. We all know that it’s never easy to lose someone…”

Her hands moved up to lay flat against his chest, one hand over each of his beating hearts. There was a shift in her lip. A curl that warned of fury. “Easy when you don’t have to remember it,” she accused him without looking into his face. “Must be nice to be able to forget it all.” She pushed at his chest, levering him at back a half foot. “You have no clue what it’s like to lose your entire universe,” she snarled. “You have no damn clue at all.”

“How would you know that?” he replied with a tic in his eye, but a voice low.

She walked past him, knocking his shoulder with hers as she passed him. “Because I’m the one who has to remember it.” She slammed open the capsule doors and glared at him with a look over her shoulder. “I don’t get the luxury of forgetting it all like you do.”

She stalked fast into the living room. She knew he was directly behind her. He didn’t like someone else having the last word, and he certainly wasn’t going to like a complete stranger to him getting that last dig in without any form of explanation. She stormed the Living Room and grabbed a full bottle of scotch from the wall unit, popping off the cork and drinking a gulp straight from the bottle.

Braxiatel was on her inside a breath. He snatched the bottle from her hands. “Not a good idea to do that with this stuff, Sweetheart,” he warned. He held the bottle behind him when she made a grab for it. He held is hand on her chest to hold her in place. “What happened?” 

“She just lost a friend,” the Doctor answered on her behalf. “Lady Clerrulin of the Patraxan Chapter.”

“Oh Hell,” Braxiatel muttered. He reached for a bottle of wine and stuck it into Rose’s hand with the hope it would take her away from the Gallifreyan Scotch that would put her on her arse with only two shots. 

“I don’t need you answering on my behalf, Doctor,” she snapped at him. “You don’t have the right to do that.” She wrapped her lips around the lip of the bottle and threw back her head, swallowing three times before lowering her head. She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand. “At least not any more…”

“Okay, and that’s about enough chatter from you.” Braxiatel took her by the shoulders and directed her into a walk toward the stairs. “You know what? Let’s get you up upstairs. Take a bath or a shower or finish that bottle on your bed or something. Best you aren’t down here…” He guided her a little harder when she looked toward the two girls. “Don’t you worry about them. We’ve got their care tonight.” He held up a finger into her face when she looked to argue. “And Sarah Jane? Well, I’m either going to get her set up to stay here tonight, or get her home safely. Her choice, and nothing for you to worry about.”

“I just need a minute,” she assured him. With a roll in her shoulders and a push to force herself to smile. “See? All good. I can handle…”

He held up a hand, his middle and index fingers standing tall in warning. “You think I’m giving you the choice, Rose?” He shook his head. “One touch to your temple with these and you’re out for the rest of the night.”

“You wouldn’t,” she said with shock.

“Try me,” he warned her. “I mightn’t look like it, but I’m more than strong enough to carry you up the stairs and put you in bed, dead weight and all.” 

“I hate you,” she seethed out.

“Good,” he shot back. “In three seconds,” he counted as though she was one of the children and not his adult Sister in Law.

“Fine.”

She stomped up the stairs, her bottle of wine practically dragging along each of the steps behind her. She made it into her bedroom and loudly slammed the door behind her. She set the bottle of wine on her dresser and stalked toward the window. Her hands gripped hard on the window pane and she stared at the grass outside the window with a glare she wished would rip a fracture along it, across the road, and then cut the house in front of it in two.

Rage was well and truly settling into her shoulders now. It made her shake and shudder. She gripped hard enough on the window frame that she broke at least two of her fingernails.

Everything inside her right now wanted to get outside this house. She wanted out. She wanted to go outside, run into the street, and scream her seething fury against the universe up into the sky…

…Bring the Master to her now… She’d kick his arse by just looking at him…

She heard her bedroom door open, and then close gently. She felt the presence of someone, but didn’t look back. “I am really not in the mood to talk to you right now, Brax,” she warned. “I don’t need telepathy powers to knock you out … I’m a Tyler … I’ll slap you int unconsciousness.”

“I’m not my brother,” the Doctor answered her gruffly.

Rose let out a huff. “I’m even less inclined to want to talk to you, _Lord Doctor_ ,” she snarled. 

“You’re awfully angry at me,” he noted calmly. “Which confuses me somewhat considering we’ve just met.”

“Yeah.” Her eyes were narrowed against the window. She could see his reflection in the glass, leaning up against the wall beside the door. He didn’t look all that ready to run, but he was extremely guarded in the way he looked at her. 

“Might be nice if you told me what I’ve done to make you so angry.”

“Coming into my bedroom unannounced might be a start,” she snarled. “You don’t belong in here.”

“Don’t I?” he queried with a pinch in his eye. “Not allowed in your bedroom, but allowed to be the target of your ire. Usually both of those rites go hand in hand, don’t they?”

“Fine. It’s not you,” she breathed out against the glass. “It’s the universe I’m mad at. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.” She inhaled deeply and straightened up. She turned, walking from the window toward him and gave him a smile and a voice far too sweet to be genuine. “So how about you just send up your brother and I’ll get angry at him instead, yeah?”

He watched her approach with a wary eye. She was bristling with several very different and very dangerous emotions. He could feel that from across the room, and as she neared him now, he found it almost debilitating. “He deserves it much less than I do.”

She stopped in front of him. The most prominent part of her chest only about an inch from his lapel. She looked up at him, her eyes unreadable. “Might be safe for you to leave my room, Lord Doctor,” she warned him softly. “There’s a chance I might go nuclear in a moment, and you really don’t want to be here to see it.” She exhaled hard. “And fuck, I hope this room is soundproofed…” She flicked her eyes up. “For your safety…”

“Who am I to you?” he cut in.

“My best friend’s brother,” she answered quickly.

“I really don’t think so,” he ground out, his own fury rising at the lie. “Tell me, Rose. Who am I to you?”

“Right now?” she clarified. “Nothing. You are nothing to me.”

“And yet,” he said with a bit of an arrogant smirk. “At the same time, I’m everything to you, aren’t I?”

Her eyes pinched tightly. She was prepared to scream at him to get out, to leave, and not to come back. Then she saw a flash of smoky blue in his brown eyes. Clutching at the lapel of his jacket, she rolled up onto her toes, pulled him toward her, and crushed her mouth against his.

~~oooOOOooo~~


	77. Careful Planning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brax is up to stuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here there be no smut... HAHAHAAHA!
> 
> And you thought I was going to follow through on that, didn't you? Won't lie, I did consider it maybe a little bit (like the old boy would actually take advantage of a situation like that. Really?). And I even had a neat scene in mind for the panic of the situation ... but then I laughed it off, gave a shake of my head at my own stupidity, and wrote something that .. well .. Not even I know how to describe what I just wrote.
> 
> Despite being a bit of a lunatic myself, I do struggle to write lunacy for some reason. Wouldn't think it'd be hard, but shit... it is. and bloody hell, I hope I made it clear what was actually going on with old Rosie there ... 
> 
> I really truly hope you like this chapter. I'm still on the fence as to how I feel about it...

~~oooOOOooo~~

Braxiatel could feel the stare of his wife on him as he spoke quietly with Carein and Tiriah at the kitchen door. He could feel her judgment, her disappointment, and her resignation even without looking in her direction. And right now, he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to see her emerald eyes full of sadness … the one emotion he couldn’t feel from her, although he knew it was there.

He expressed his thanks toward the two dedicated woman who had been extremely tender, yet incredible driving forces behind the operation that existed beyond Rose’s kitchen door, and watched them as they dutifully separated to make the arrangements he’d requested of them.

“There are times,” she breathed out behind him. “Where you truly scare me, Brax.”

“It’s what has to be done,” he said under his breath without turning toward her. “We’ve already discussed this.”

“ _You_ discussed it,” she corrected him. “I argued against it.” She inhaled deeply and spoke a whisper along her exhale. “It’s cruel.”

“There’s no other choice,” he said with equal softness. “We’re up against a force that could destroy everything we’ve worked for all these centuries.” He looked up to the ceiling. “In one fell swoop, everything we’ve done, all of our sacrifices – _her_ sacrifices – can be destroyed.” His face creased and he dropped his chin to his chest. He spoke with pain. “Resurrecting Rassilon was the biggest mistake made by our people.”

“I know,” she agreed softly. “You did warn them.”

“Fat lot of good it did me,” he said with a gruff. “The universe’s most knowledgeable expert in all things Rassilon, of the truths and lies inside his legends. His false promises, his betrayals of those he loved even more than he did himself. His descent into madness… Yet my word meant nothing to any of them.” His lips curled. “Misguided, romantic fools, the lot of them.” He felt her tender touch on his arm but didn’t turn to her. “Them – the fifteen Lords who decided to ignore all of our warnings and free him from the Matrix – they are the ones responsible for this, and for the destruction of our world.”

“There’s still time,” she offered. “Gallifrey can still be saved.”

“We’re out of time,” he corrected her. “The fate of our world is down to hours, not days weeks or months. _Hours_.”

“He’ll find a way.”

“You’re as much a misguided romantic a fool as they are,” he huffed out, aware that his accusation was hurtful. “You’re putting your faith in one man, just like they are.”

“I believe in him, Brax,” she assured him with a fierceness inside her breath. “And maybe this time you need to as well.” 

He looked down his shoulder but still didn’t look at her. “You saw what I saw, Romana. He’s a mad man.”

She huffed out an angry laugh. “So it’s okay for _you_ to put all of your faith in one man – an _insane_ man - then?”

He spun on his heel to face her. His eyes were hard with anger. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re so sure that this one man, one insignificant and pathetic man, has enough power over the fate of Gallifrey as to see its almost immediate demise – something the Daleks have been fighting to achieve for centuries.” Her lip curled with disgust. “You’re as romantic a fool as you’re accusing the rest of us of being.”

“The difference between my romanticism and yours, Romana, is that Koschei is being puppeteered by a force greater than all of us.” He stepped toward his wife, his eyes alight with fury. “He is a destructor, Romana, not a saviour, and that alone makes him far more dangerous than Thete or anyone else looking to stop him. In the past he’s been manageable. He was cold, he was calculating, he was breathtakingly brilliant. But back then he was hell bent on destroying only one man. Just one. That made him predictable.” He huffed out, fear now replacing anger. “But now. He’s a complete mad man. Insane. So damn lost inside his own madness that he’s let himself be controlled by the worst of us all.”

“Your brother is just as dangerous as he is,” she reminded him. “The Doctor knows that man just as intimately as you know Rassilon. He knows his weaknesses and knows exactly how to break through the madness for just long enough…”

“I can’t believe in him like that, like you do,” Braxiatel cut in with true fear in his eyes and voice. “I can’t put the fate of us in his hands alone.”

“But isn’t that what we’ve been doing all this time?” she asked him with a pinch in her brow. 

“If I was,” he said softly with his eyes shifting toward the kitchen, and a swath of red-suited soldiers gathering beyond the door. “Then I’d never have arranged all this. I’d just have left everyone on Gallifrey and not bothered to set up sanctuary for our peoples and our knowledge.” His eyes shifted back to hers. “I can’t have unwavering faith in him like you do, Romana. Thete is seared deeply inside my hearts, and I believe in him far more than I will ever admit to you or anyone, but this is bigger than something he can handle alone. He needs us, and right now, he needs her as well.”

“But in this way?” she questioned. “By the Gods, Brax. The two of them, they’re ticking time bombs. And by engineering what you have today, allowing him here, letting him see what he once was but can’t ever be again, letting her get so close, yet a universe away from him, you’ve lit the fuse.”

“I had to,” he said with a wince. “For the both of them.”

“It’s cruel.”

“It is necessary,” he averred with a sneer. “I can’t help Thete in his current or his future incarnation if she doesn’t break…”

“You mean become your weapon,” she corrected angrily. “Metaphoric though it may be, Rose doesn’t deserve you using her like that. And your brother doesn’t need to see you to do it to her.”

He sniffed. “It’s the only way. He’s the only one capable of breaking her enough to release the energy she’s been absorbing over the last few months. I think you’d be thankful that I didn’t bring one of them here who actually cares for her – at least this one won’t be hurt by it.”

“Oh don’t give me that nonsense,” she huffed. “The only reason you didn’t do that was because you know for a fact he wouldn’t allow you to do it.”

He sniffed hard but didn’t argue.

“You _love_ her,” she charged him. “She and her children are seared as deeply inside your hearts as your brother is.” She caught the flash of anger and guilt in his eyes. “If you’ll do that to them, by the Gods, what would you do to me?”

“I’d die for you,” he vowed fiercely. “Every single regeneration in one act. You are my hearts, Romana. Without you, they don’t beat, so don’t you dare believe for a second that I would ever…”

“Betray me?” she interrupted sharply. “Like you’re doing to them.” She let out a huff. “Manipulating the both of them in the most hurtful way possible.”

“If I don’t,” he said softly, taking his eyes from hers. “Then he dies. Thete doesn’t make it out of this without losing a life.” He slid his eyes back to her. “It’s been seen, and the warning of it burns across time. Call me what you want to. Judge me. Hate me if you desire it. But I won’t stand silently by and let my brother give up a life because of the actions of that disgusting piece of filth. Not when I can counter it. He _will_ walk away from this with the face he wears now. If I have to commit an atrocity in order to save my brother, then so be it. I will. That’s my vow.”

She nodded. “Then know this, Braxiatel. I will support this. I will question it no further. I will even be by your side as I always am as your dedicated and loving mate.” She swallowed down her own worry. “I’ve heard the warnings and seen the split in the timelines myself. Despite Rassilon’s ascension from the grave, I am still the Lady President in yours and many of our people’s eyes. Therefore, my word will be your law. If at any point between now and when Rassilon is sent back into hell I deem it necessary to make a decision and you feel it pertinent for you to argue with me on … you won’t.”

“That depends…”

“You won’t,” she ordered him sharply. “Make that vow to me, Brax. Swear to it. Swear on my ownership of your hearts that you won’t argue.”

“ _What_ do you know,” he queried slowly with a pinch in his eye. “That I _don’t_?”

“Swear it.”

“It is my vow to you, My Lady President.” He said with a light bow to his head. “My beloved.”

“Cardinal, with apology.”

Braxiatel turned away from his wife to acknowledge the soldier behind him. “Commander Hellequn,” he greeted with a lazy return of the salute that she offered him. “Are you and you team ready?”

“Indeed, Sir,” she answered firmly. “All fitted with vortex manipulators, with capsule pilots on standby for backup and retrieval if necessary.”

“All of your team understand just who we are up against here and will support the resistance movement.”

She gave him a smile, one that was darkened with the thrill of challenge. “Cardinal, Sir. Our combined forces include those who have fought alongside and are loyal to his Lord Doctor.” She looked over her shoulder to the gathered team and then back to him. “We follow those who lead in battle, Sir, not those who hide within the Citadel like cowards.”

“Interesting that you refer to our Lord Rassilon and his council as cowards,” he said with a smirk. 

“Ascension as Gods, Sir. That doesn’t include any of us who have actually drawn arms and engaged the Dalek forces.” Her smile darkened toward disgust. “If you don’t mind my candidness, Sir. We fight for Mother Gallifrey and her children, not the chosen few fools who cower in fear rather than fight alongside the rest of us.” She gave him a disgusted expression. “And not one chosen female is among them. Unlike my own team that represent us all in equal measure.”

“You do know that I am included in the select chosen few, Commander,” he shot back with a smile.

“But your mate isn’t, which means you won’t choose to ascend,” she reminded him. “And your legend surrounding mass destruction of Dalek forces at the mouth of Kasterborous is impressive to say the least.” Her face broke into a smile. “So we can forgive you for that.”

He looked at his fingers. “And not even a single nail broken…” he winked. “My brother would be impressed if it didn’t shatter his perceived view of my utter cowardice in the face of danger.” His smile dropped and he lifted his face to look at the ceiling. “Speaking of, I imagine I will be called soon.” 

“Shall we materialise in place and await further orders, Sir?”

He gave her a nod. “You already know your tasks. Have your team been briefed?”

“Yes, Sir, and are ready to dematerialise on your word.”

“Then get into position,” he said in order. “Her Lady Romana and I will be in position within the hour. Remember, you are all to stand down, but on guard, until such time that his Lord Doctor needs support or I sound the cloisters. Until then, remain cloaked and ready.”

“Yes, Lord Cardinal,” she answered him. She turned on her heel and walked a purposeful stride into kitchen. She circled her finger in the air to her team of at least twenty men and women, all dressed in their crimson battle armour with weapons held at their sides. She received firm nods from all and turned her back to them in lead. With a nod to Braxiatel she lifted her wrist and tapped at at the face of her vortex manipulator. “For Gallifrey,” she stated firmly.

Behind her, calls identical to hers sounded out, and one by one, each member of the party disappeared into individual columns of vertical blue light.

“First pieces of the puzzle are in place,” he breathed out with a pucker in his lips. “Now for the next piece of it: Distraction to get them into position.”

“It’s not too late,” Romana said worriedly. “We don’t need to do this to her…”

He heard a sharp and deep call of his name from upstairs. He looked to Romana with an expression of apology. “Now it’s too late,” he said. “Carein and Tiriah will watch the children. Corporals Inniahor and Artice will act as security here. I’ll call for you as soon as it’s done, Romana.” He kissed her temple. “My hearts beat for you, beloved. I hope you can forgive me when this is over.”

“So do I,” she replied softly. “Now go. For Gallifrey.”

~~oooOOOOooo~~

Rose’s eyes were slammed shut behind lids that were clenched far too tightly to not ache. Her lips were pressed against his deliciously cool mouth, and despite a complete lack of reciprocation from him, Rose pulled his lapels harder to draw him against her. She gave her head a small tilt to escape the press of their noses and tried to deepen their connection. She parted her lips in a gasp, trying to coax him into relenting. His lips moved ever so slightly, although more into an expression of something less hungry and more simply annoyed. It was enough for her to have a taste of him, however, and It just spurned the burning hunger she had to be touched and loved by the man she loved.

Her mind swam at his taste. Her hunger fired and burned hot inside her mind, sending heat into her belly. It was so hot, despite the touch of him being so cold.

There was a whipcrack inside her head and a hard contraction inside her belly. There were hands on her shoulders, but they didn’t need to push her for Rose to recoil back and away from him. She held at her belly and staggered backward a couple of steps as his hands pushed her off him.

“I don’t know just what kind of man you think I am, Lady Rose,” he growled at her as he wiped at his mouth with his sleeve. “But I can assure you I’m not one to engage in the behaviours that you’re expecting from me.”

She held at her belly and staggered backward. Her head shook slowly side to side and she looked up at him with horror in her eyes. “No,” she breathed out. “No. No. No.”

“No,” he agreed with a firm nod of his head. “I’m not the man you want me to be,” he warned her. “I’m not your husband. I barely even _know_ you.”

She remained in her stoop, with one arm moving tighter around her belly. Her other hand lifted to press against her forehead. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks and she looked to him with agony in her gaze. “This can’t be. It can’t be.” Her head ached a searing shot of pain across her eyes. “No. this isn’t fair!”

He began to pace across the doorway, ignorant to her being in any other state than simply rejected. “Now I admit to being curious about what you and I must have been at one point in both our lives. More curious as to how it is that I don’t quite recall any of it…”

Her stomach wouldn’t release its painful contraction. She couldn’t straighten up to a stand, so she couldn’t run. She was barely able to remain in as much of a stand as she was. Her mind was searing and on fire and his incessantly speaking voice was further aggravating the already furious pain burning her from the inside out.

“I was in that body for two-hundred years before I regenerated three hundred years ago, and I can tell you with all honestly that I can see no missing pieces of time at all during either period of those lives…”

“Shut up,” she managed out with a quiet hiss through her teeth. “Shut up. Please just shut up.” Her hand released her belly and shot up into her hair. 

“Those are definitely my children, however, which leads to a whole host of alarming scenarios, many of which quite frankly terrify me…”

She clutched tight fistfuls of her hair and yanked hard in an attempt at pull that fire from her mind by the roots. “Will you please just shut up?”

He finally stepped out of his own reverie and took a sideways stance to look toward her. “I’m sorry?” he muttered indignantly, annoyed to have his rambling interrupted – particularly by the person who was the cause of such rambling. When he saw her obviously pained state, however, all indignance fled. His eyes widened and he moved toward her quickly. “Are you all right?”

She held her hand outward in a demand for him not to take another step toward her. “Stay away from me,” she warned him in a growl that finished with a pained moan that lifted her chin upward to point toward the ceiling. “This cant be real. It’s beyond cruel.” Her body straightened and she growled toward the ceiling. “What purpose can this possibly serve you to do this?”

“My dear,” he ventured cautiously. “What’s wrong with you?”

Her head slowly levered downward. There was an expression of regret, defeat, and even anger in the creased and emotion-contorted features on her face. “I _met_ you,” she declared regretfully. “I fell in _love_ with you.” She panted deeply, enough to let her head swirl despite the burning. “I gave you every part of me I had to give. I gave everything up to be with you.” She looked at him with incredible sadness. “ _That’s_ what’s wrong with me. I was too naïve, and too damn selfish to see how dangerous it is to be your lover.”

She panted and rocked in place. Finally straightening up as she pains started to slowly subside. Her vision swirled and she felt her body shake and shudder. “And now I’m paying for it, aren’t I? And I’ll pay for your love for the rest of my life.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he questioned worriedly, his worry ramping up a level when he watched her head quiver and shake in a definitely inhuman manner. His eyes pinched and his head tilted to note that her entire face would morph into someone else entirely, and then with a flicker of amber, it would shudder back to normal.

She wasn’t listening to him, nor did she seem to notice what was happening to her. She just continued along her path of conversation as though talking to herself rather than him.

“And you know what?” she chirped with both anger and flippancy. “And even knowing what I know, and what destruction loving you has done to me – I’d still do it all again in a second.” She levered herself up to laugh toward the ceiling. “Oh, yes. _That’s_ what’s wrong with me, Doctor. I’m just a hopeless fool desperately in love and expecting you to love me back.”

“I imagine that I loved you very, very much,” he muttered out, not realising just how pathetic it sounded.

“Yeah, once upon a time,” she sang out angrily, her hands still pressed against her head. She stalked from one side of the bed to the other. “You loved me far more than I ever deserved you to. Foolish Human that I am I didn’t expect the repurcussions of entering into a marriage bond with an alien, though, did I? Didn’t quite factor in the whole _till death do us part_ aspect of it closely enough before lettin’ you in my head like that. Certainly didn’t expect that you’d be the one to get the _out_ clause and have the freedom again to shag across space and time…” She stomped her foot into the floor, frustrated and in pain. “…while I end up destined to be loveless and alone for the rest of my life.”

“I imagine you aren’t typically this unreasonable, irrational, and nonsensical,” he observed worriedly. The pain he was noting appeared to be the pains of infidelity, a safeguard of a Gallifreyan bond that shouldn’t have been triggered by her kissing him – even if he did intend on rejecting her advance. While he understood the pains of infidelity included a burning mind and clutching pains in the belly, he never knew that it included rapid shaking of the body and head like this. He was cautious when he spoke next. “Although I can perhaps understand the driving force toward it.”

She lifted her head to look at him. There was a bright flash of amber in her eyes as she shot a glare toward him. “You have no idea at all, Doctor. Hard for you to understand anything when you’re not the one who has to remember it all and suffer alone with it. Hard for you to know a pain you’ll never have to experience it.” She huffed out breaths of swirling amber. “And right now, I _hate_ you for it.” 

The breaths of amber that were curling out of her mouth and rising to the ceiling were breaths that shouldn’t be curling out of the mouth of a human. Her eyes, which were aglow moments ago were now thankfully back to brown, but they swirled with hatred and anger toward him. 

Oh he didn’t like this. He didn’t like this one bit.

“God, I feel like I want to explode,” she ground out through her teeth as he pressed the butts of her hands hard into her eyes. “I feel like my soul is ripping apart.”

“Sit down,” he urged her with a cup of her elbow in his hand. “Looks like you need a Doctor.”

“Not buying that line this time,” she snarled as she jerked out of his hold. “We already know what happens when I kiss you…”

“Not my intention,” he assured coolly. “Now take a seat and let me look at you.”

Her eyes lifted with hatred. “Going to go nuclear,” she warned him. Her voice took on a deeper almost masculine sound. “And I’m going to take you with me. _Doctor_.” She laughed a throaty chuckle. She then shuddered and shook, warping once again like an image on a TV that was receiving crossed signals from the satellite.

She clutched at her head as her body settled back toward normalcy and let out an agonised cry. Her skin shimmered with amber, and he could smell a saturation of lindos energy that was far heavier than any he’d smelled on the battlefield even in the midst of several regenerations flaming all at once. Whatever was happening to her, it wasn’t normal – not for a Time Lord, and certainly not for a human. He turned his head as far toward the doorway as he could and still be able to watch her. “Braxiatel!” he yelled out with gruff urgency. “Get up here!”

Her head snapped up, her eyes wide as saucers. “Brax,” she breathed out worriedly. “My God, the kids.” She launched toward the door, shoving him off to one side. “I have to get out of here. I’m not safe.”

“Braxiatel!” he yelled out again as he made chase after her through the hall. “For the sake of Rassilon, where are you?”

Rose got to the base of the stairs and collided hard with the door before she was able to open it. She struggled with the latch enough that the Doctor was able to catch up with her. He pressed against the door over her shoulder to slam it shut once she got it open. He was wrapped around her from behind and the proximity of him burned her mind.

“No,” he warned her. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“You’re not my husband, remember,” she reminded him coolly in a detached masculine voice as her body once again warped and shuddered. “You have no say in my comings and goings.” She stopped shuddering but panted out a completely panicked breath. Her voice shifted more toward her own. “I have to go. Let me go. Please let me go.”

Braxiatel’s voice was sharp behind him. “Let her go,” he ordered.

The Doctor twisted his head to his brother. “No, Brax. You don’t understand. She’s not right..”

“Let her go,” he demanded with a curl in his lip.

Rose sneered a growl and threw her back and shoulders backward to push him off her. She hauled the door open, unlatched the screen door, and then fled into the street.

The Doctor turned toward his brother. There was sheer fury in his eyes. Before he could say anything however, Braxiatel held up a hand. “Stand down, Thete. I’ve got this.”

“Got what?” he demanded sharply. “You have no idea what you’ve _got._ Or what’s happening to her.”

Braxiatel curled around the door and turned to both address his brother and walk backward toward the street. “I know exactly what’s wrong, _and_ how to deal with it. Now do us all a favour and stay inside for the next few hours. Things on this planet are about to go to Hell, and I’d much rather the resolution be left to the future you that’s already trying to fight it than current you that’s too damn old to even try.” He turned to the street when he got to the sidewalk. He paused only to look both ways for traffic, then with a single skip to start, ran at full sprint in the direction that Rose had fled.

Romana spoke softly behind him. “It’s best you come inside, Doctor.” 

He remained in place, reluctant to move. “You didn’t see her, Romana. That was not normal for any species on this planet, let alone a human. I don’t believe Braxiatel wholly comprehends…”

“He’s Cardinal Braxiatel,” she interrupted firmly. “Of course he has full comprehension of what’s happening. He wouldn’t be the Cardinal if he didn’t.”

~~oooOOOOooo~~


	78. Mental Intrusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh Brax....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a really really tough one to write.. I got fought on all sides by all of them, all arguing and giving me a hard time because none of them wanted to go anywhere near where I wanted them to go. 
> 
> I actually got a wee bit stressed on this... I had to walk away from it yesterday ... and today ... well ... This is as good as it's going to get I'm afraid. All my rewrites and changes, and this is what I finally settled on. 
> 
> Oh well... I really do hope you enjoy. I really, really hope you enjoy.

~~oooOOOOooo~~

The streets were dark with night as she fled along the centreline of the roadway. Every second streetlight had vandalised by the local wayward teens, which only lessened the brightness of the lights overhead. Patches of darkness in between each still functioning overhead lamp gave a staggered spotlight effect on both sides of the street, the outer arcs of which barely kissed at the edges of the next. The darkest part of the street was the centre of the road, the pathway Rose had chosen to flee.

Despite the darkness, she saw everything clearly. Her eyes shone like a cartoon robot character of old – a young boy robot whose eyes shone like spotlights to guide his path toward danger. How horribly appropriate for her in this moment. For all her mental and physical anguish right now, she was beginning to feel numb to it. Resignation, if you will. Feelings – what good were they to her now? 

She must have been running for only a few minutes, but her muscles and chest ached as though she’d been at it for hours. Her breath drew in so hard that it scraped at her throat with each staggering inhale. Her exhales were far more painful and ended with a hard cough. She half expected to spit out blood, and staggered to a stumbled stop in the middle of the road to cough at the ground.

“Rose!”

How did she think she could get away without Braxiatel following her? That loveable, over protective fool.

“Stay away from me!” she yelled out to him as she staggered without balance. She held at her belly with one arm and held her other hand out behind her in a gesture for him to stay away from her. Her legs were bent at the knee, her ankles parted far enough that when she finally buckled onto one knee, she didn’t fall completely onto her side. Her eyes burned and the pain her head was blistering in its intensity. “God, it hurts.”

Braxiatel dropped into a crouch at her side. He maintained a cautious distance from her but broke enough of the plane of her requested distancing to lift her face with his finger on her chin. His voice was incredibly tender and even slightly wavered. “Look at me, Rose. Let me see you.”

She held herself low and lifted her chin to him. His voice was her anchor right now, and she needed his kindness to centre herself as best she was capable of. She pulled her head as far from her shoulders as she could manage, trying to climb away from the pain that was clutching at her belly. “I don’t know what’s happening to me,” she whimpered out in a truly pathetic voice that in any other situation would have him clicking his tongue at her. “Why does it hurt so much?”

“Your head?” he queried softly. Her eyes were alight, and her skin shimmered almost ethereally. She was bristling with energy right now … the energy of almost a thousand Time Lord regenerations … and by the Gods the crackle of it was so much more than he’d anticipated. If this wasn’t released, it’d kill her.

…And if that was the final outcome here, he had no doubt at all that there’d be a line up of people to kill him in response. _Rassilon_ , he’d probably be at the front of that line.

She closed her eyes and nodded. “My head, and every other part of me,” she answered. “I feel like I’m tearing in two. I can barely breathe.” Her breaths took on a more staggered gulp of air as though to accent that very point.

“Mental intrusion,” he answered simply, only offering her half of the solution. He then cleared his throat of its shakiness. His voice remained quiet, but it was becoming somewhat clinical. “You’ve got someone trying to get into your mind...”

“Who?” she yelped without letting him finish. Anger warred with fear, and it seemed to only bristle her glow further. “Who’s doing this to me? How do I stop it?”

“You don’t,” he muttered with a now almost detached voice. He could see the face of a woman he loved morph and flicker in and out of the face of the man he hated more than any other in the entire universe. He couldn’t quite shield his expression of disgust and used that disgust to push him forward. He pulled his hand back from her face and pulled up his lip with a crinkle of his nose. “Well, not on a voluntary basis at any rate.”

“Help me, Brax,” she whined with clear agony. “God. Please. You have to help me. I feel like I want to die.” She pressed the butt of her hand hard into her forehead. “Why does my head burn so much, Brax. Why?”

“Because you have one part of a bond fighting the intrusion,” he answered her with remarkable calm. He didn’t touch her for support, but he lifted his head to survey their surroundings somewhat. “Most of your kind, well. They’ll be taken over without a fight, and I suspect the vast majority already have. Weak minded species that you are.” He snapped a look at her and gave her a look of raw appreciation. “But you, oh, you’ve got some strength in you, don’t you? Bullheaded, stubborn, fight against everything … Just like him.” He looked away from her with a huff in his lowered head. “Perfect for each other, the pair of you.” 

“Less bein’ pissed off and more explainin’ please,” she pleaded with a wince in her eye.

He didn’t look down at her. Instead he set his hands on his hips and looked around them through his brows and a lowered head. “Koschei can’t quite get in your head like he’s trying to. He’s up against a metaphorical brick wall that’s damn near impervious. Well. At least it _would_ be if you were a telepath like the rest of us. Which you aren’t. You’re human. Fragile.” He huffed and then spoke under his breath. “Why did he have to fall in love with a human?”

“You’re not makin’ any sense.”

He finally looked at her. “To put it simply: you have a bond inside that head of yours. Severed and hanging like a soaked rag, it may be, but it was a bond given to you by a Prydonian telepathic master…”

“The Doctor,” she practically spit out. “Still in my head…”

Slowly he closed his eyes and lifted a hand to cup over his mouth. He felt a painful stutter inside his chest and breathed out hard to get that damn empathetic response out of his mind. After only a second he dropped the hand from his face and nodded at her. “Yes. Thete’s still in there, even when he’s not. Even when he doesn’t even want to be.” His eyes narrowed. “Haunting that delicate mind of yours for now, and for the rest of your life.”

“Protecting me?” she asked meekly. Hopefully.

“If you want to call it that,” he whispered harshly. “Or you can call it controlling you. Always in there. Always waiting in the back recesses of your mind to hold you back from all you can ever be… from ever feeling the love of him or any other.” He swallowed. “Yet he’s free to love and be loved again. Quite likely has, in fact. I did hear rumours of a Charlie in his life shortly after you parted.”

She let out a long cry. Braxiatel’s words were driving that searing hot knife deeper into her mind, so deep that it was now in her chest. “Get him out!” she demanded. “Get him out of me. I can’t handle this…”

There was a buzz against his thigh. The phone in his trouser pocket advising him that the teams were in place, and he needed to execute the next phase.

Rassilon, how was he actually capable of such depravity? Could they ever recover from this?

Too late to back out now.

He pulled the phone from his pocket and flipped up the screen with his thumb. His thumb hovered over the keypad, and he seemed to falter just slightly as though indecisive about his next move. His eyes flicked to her with softness and apology, but then quickly hardened. His voice fell to order; the voice he used when he was dealing with anyone outside of their family unit. “Your mind and body know what they have to do to fight against the both of them, Rose. So let it happen. ” He huffed out. “Thete and Koschei don’t appear to be too content to just fight it out with each other anymore, they have to use a weak minded conduit to fight their war.” His hand shook just slightly and he pressed the butt of the phone to his forehead and drew in a breath.

“Then help me, Brax” she whimpered, blind to his sudden indecision. “Can’t you get in there and stop it? Please.”

With the phone at his forehead, he spared her a glance. He felt his hearts shatter inside his chest yet drew himself up to a stand. Resolve found, he pressed a speed dial number on the keypad and then held the phone to his ear. As he waited for the phone to connect, he looked down at her, still suffering in the middle of the road. “For what it’s worth, Rose. And despite what happens next, you are in my hearts. You will always be there. I’m so sorry.”

She looked up at him with question and contracted further into herself to see how he towered high over her, his full attention on the street ahead of them and to the phone he held at his ear. After a moment of silence, she heard his voice. Flat, and devoid of any emotion at all.

“Koschei. It’s Braxiatel.” He looked down to Rose inside his pause but quickly looked back out into the street. “I take it you’re with my brother…”

~~oooOOOooo~~

The Doctor was tied and tethered to what he could only describe as a delivery trolley with a rather well padded seat and back rest adhered to it. While his former childhood friend did appear to have been considerate enough to provide a padded chair-of-sorts to tie him to, he felt that the old boy had faltered in providing him with any form of true comfort with the way he’d tied him down. The thick straps across his forehead and even across his mouth like a gag made it impossible to move his head at all, and damn was it causing a crick in his neck right now.

Oh he knew why the Master had tied him in such a manner. It was to force him to look at the madness his old friend had created across the globe. To make sure that his focus would remain on the tethered and frightened Donna and Wilf in order to view the carnage and know that any move he made to try and free himself would result in the both of them being harmed.

He tried to calm his breathing in the face of their panic. Donna’s growls and threats that she was going to tear this man apart once she got free really weren’t helping all that much. She struggled and fought against the coarse hessian ropes that bound her with at least fifteen coils around her upper arms and chest. Wilf remained silent and stoic in the face of danger. He seemed content to let his granddaughter lay down the verbal barrage while he kept his eyes on the Doctor and the brave face he put on.

There was chatter on the screens behind his companion and her grandfather, the bulk of which he really wanted to ignore. The Doctor may have been able to counter off and reverse Koschei’s hypnotic pranks back at the Academy, but this was on a scale larger than even his quite frankly brilliant mind could handle. How in Rassilon was he going to stop this madness?

“Enough soldiers and weapons to turn this planet into a warship,” the Master cheered out happily. He walked a victorious stride toward the Doctor. “Nothing to say, Doctor?” he asked with a laugh. He then facetiously cupped his hand around his ear and leaned in toward the tethered man. “What’s that? Pardon? Sorry? Speak up, old man.”

“Don’t you be a smart-arse,” Donna snarled at him. “You know he can’t talk with the gag you’ve got on him. So leave him alone!”

The Master looked at the Doctor with an amused expression. “Oh, your current little plaything knows how to kick up a fuss, doesn’t she?”

“What’d you just call me?” she snapped in reply. “Oh, I’ll give you plaything in a minute. Once I get free I’m gonna clock you for that one.”

He held up both hands and pushed them in the air in front of him in time with a shushing sound he hissed through his teeth at her. He looked back to the Doctor. “Got a grating voice, this one. How do you put up with the whining moaning drivel of any of them?”

“You’re not getting’ away with this,” she warned him sharply as she threw herself forward to try and break her binds. “I’m warnin’ you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh hush, will you. Really, you are definitely going to be the source of what looks to be an impressive headache later.”

“Give you more’n a headache,” she threatened with a sneer.

“How about you listen to your Master,” he advised her as he snapped out a hand and clutched her cheeks and jaw inside a hand. “And shut your damn mouth!”

The small phone she kept tucked inside her bra vibrated and then gave a shrill series of rings. One after the other. The master, with his hand still curled around her jaw, looked downward into her cleavage. His brow was high. “What’s what?” he asked curiously.

“My boobs,” Donna snapped in reply. “And if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you stopped leering at them like that.”

“I’ve no inclination to look at any part of you,” he said with a growl and an upward lift of his eyes to hers. “Least of all your boobs.” His eyes dropped again. “That’s a mobile.”

“Yeah,” she said with a grunt. “So what? Just ignore it. They’ll leave a message.”

“No, no,” he said with a shake in his head. “I don’t think you understand,” he said breathily, his curiosity peaked. “Every single person on this planet is me. And I’m not phoning you…” His eyes darkened. “So who the hell is it?” He reached a hand into her shirt to get the phone.

“Get your perverted hands off me,” she yelped, struggling against the ropes and the hand that was inside her bra. “I’m warnin’ ya.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he said with a roll in his eyes. He showed the phone to the Doctor with a lift of his hand as he swiftly walked back to the centre of the room. He held up a hand to the seething Donna to tell her to shut up, then flicked his hand to hold up a finger as he flipped open the phone and held it to his ear. “Who’s this?” he asked sharply.

“Koschei,” a voice with a very familiar expression of disdain answered him. “It’s Braxiatel. I take it you’re with my brother.”

“Irving Braxiatel,” The Master answered with his own level of disdain. He looked at Donna with an expression of surprise as he thumbed to activate the speaker feature of the phone. “Well. Well. Well. Just how do you _know_ Irving Braxiatel?” his head tipped to one side and he swooped in a turn to face the Doctor. “Well, I suppose through you, then. Right? Didn’t think the two of you were on talking terms these days, have certainly never have thought you’d be introducing him to your companions.”

The Doctor’s expressive eyes widened and looked toward Donna with surprise. The Master noted the surprise and actually laughed. He swept the phone in the air between the Doctor and Donna. “Oh? Am I to understand that the Doctor didn’t know you know his brother intimately enough that he has your phone number?” He shook his head. “Keeping secrets between friends. Tsk tsk tsk.” He thumbed at his nose and smirked. “Well it certainly seems to appear that human females are the flavour of Braxiatel’s month. Charming playboy that he is, hardly surprising I suppose.”

Braxiatel’s voice purred impatiently along the line. “I’m rather short on time, so when you’re quite finished tormenting Thete and his companion. I’d like to have a word with you.”

The Master walked toward the Doctor. He held the phone at his shoulder as he walked and threw his head back to speak to the people watching from the monitors. “Trace him,” he demanded harshly. “Find where he is. I want eyes on his location. Now!”

“Wessex Lane,” Braxiatel answered coolly. “Chiswick. Can’t miss us.”

“Us?” the Master queried with curiosity. 

“Yes, Koschei. Us. As in Rose and I.” He exhaled. “You do remember Rose, yes? Met at the park a few hours ago…”

He giggled gleefully and looked toward the Doctor, whose eyes had blown wide with horror. “Well, this just took a step toward interesting, didn’t it? If you’ve decided to call me, then I expect your night isn’t going quite as planned.” 

“Indeed it isn’t,” Braxiatel growled. “Seems that my partner for the evening is having a few problems maintaining her usually amazing good looks.”

“It can only make her all that much better looking, wouldn’t you say?” he scoffed with a snap of his fingers toward the monitor. “Get eyes on that location. Now!”

He grinned and moved quickly toward the Doctor. He leaned an elbow on the Doctor’s shoulder and chuckled. He held the phone in between them, making sure that the receiver was close to the Doctor’s mouth, even thought he was unable to speak at all. “Did you know he’s got a family now, _Uncle_ _Thete_?” He huffed then moved to speak against his ear. “Seems the old boy decided to take a page from the _Book of the Doctor_ and got himself a human plaything. Pretty little thing, I must admit, although a little too bleach-blonde for my preference.”

The Doctor’s breathing increased hotly. His cheeks puffed out as he struggled to expel all of his breaths through his nose. The Master didn’t seem to take much notice of the harsh the sound of the Doctor’s rising panic. He threw his head back and laughed. “And with the weak mind of a pathetic human, she’s been given a little bit of an upgrade, old son. Enjoy. Good luck trying to have some fun with her now without thinking of me.” He chuckled deeply. “Although, knowing you…”

The monitor behind Donna and Wilfred dropped all of the boxes containing the grouping of leaders from around the world and a single image blew up to fill the screen entirely. The centre of the image showed a pair of figures in the middle of a quiet, darkened street. Braxiatel stood tall in front of a woman on her knees, his eyes were fixed on the street camera above them both. Even through the darkness, the expression of fury in the Time Lord’s eyes was visible.

“Oh, look,” the Master purred. “There you are. You, and your little plaything.” His eyes widened to see her rocking and swaying, her hands clutching at both sides of her head. “Oh. Oh, she doesn’t look so good, does she?”

“No,” he declared darkly. He looked down along his shoulder toward her. He had to hide the almost automatic wince to watch her struggle. It became harder when she smoothed both hands down her face and looked up at him with desperation in her eyes. He quickly looked away and back up at the camera. “Not right at this moment.”

The Master rushed toward the monitor. He narrowed his focus to see the woman at Braxiatel’s feet and her distraught face. “Why hasn’t she changed,” he asked curiously. He pointed at the monitor, right into the image of Rose’s face. “Why is she still a she and not me?” He looked toward the Doctor, who’s eyes were practically bulging as he struggled hard against the ties. “Why is that woman not me?” he asked him hotly. He looked back at the screen. “She’s a human, with a weak human mind, she should be me!”

The Doctor jerked hard against his binds. He cried out through the strap covering his mouth, but whatever was said was indecipherable to anyone in the room. Whatever he was trying to say, they were obviously words of desperation. The Master pointed a finger at his nose. “Alright. You. Shut up. You’re no help.” He went back to the phone, growling at the image of Braxiatel on the screen ahead of him. “How is she immune to my attack? None of these weak-minded idiots are immune to me.”

“They obviously are,” Braxiatel answered calmly. “This female isn’t exactly one of the brighter ones. Certainly not intelligent enough to fight against your somewhat rudimentary hypnotic parlour tricks.” He chuckled. “And yet, if she’s capable of fighting against you, then so are others.”

The Master’s eyes narrowed into slits. His lip curled. “Then I’ll just have to push it a little harder, won’t I?” He dipped his head deeply into his shoulders and panted a couple of deep breaths. He grit a hard sound through his teeth that grew into a massive growl. His body shuddered and shimmered, ghosting to a just a dim outline of himself surrounding a glowing blue-white skeleton within.

Donna let out a yelp at the sight of him and turned her head off to the side. “Jesus!” She cried out, “What’s happening to him?”

The Doctor continued to struggle hard against his own binds when he saw the image of Rose on the monitor clutch her head, throw up her chin, and yell painfully into the air. He knew without a doubt that the painful dig of the tethers across his forehead and around his wrists and ankles were going to leave ugly purple bruises, but he didn’t care. He had to do something, anything, to get free and stop the torture of his wife.

The Master let out a long and massive cry and dropped the phone. It fell to the floor with a hard clatter. He held at the sides of his head and staggered as he heard Braxiatel’s laugh rise up from the floor.

“Still with her pretty face,” he taunted. “And your eagerness to make sure that all of these faces on this blasted planet belong to you leads me to believe that you need them for something. That this isn’t just one of your foolish games.”

“Shut up,” the Master yelled to the ground. “Shut up. Shut up.”

“And what do you need them all for?” Braxiatel ground out. “Why are they all so important to you?”

There was a muffled sound over the phone, and a soft pained voice asking for help. The monitor showed Braxiatel holding the phone against his chest as he scooped an arm across Rose’s back as he drew her to a stand. Her expression to him was one of desperation, hurt, and confusion, but she made no effort to pull away from him. Instead she looked to him as though he could be her salvation, that she had no other choice but to hold on to him.

“Braxiatel!” the Master yelled out into the phone as he snatched it off the ground. He ran to the monitor and punched a fist against the top of it as though it would get the Time Lord’s attention. “Braxiatel, don’t you ignore me. Answer me!”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t even know that he was even being summoned. The phone was still pressed against his chest as he spoke to the woman held against his chest.

The Master ran toward the Doctor and held the phone at his mouth. “Tell him to answer me!” he demanded. “Tell that twit of a brother of yours that if he doesn’t want me to destroy this planet, he’ll answer me.”

All the Doctor could do was slide his eyes toward him and lift a brow. His mouth was still gagged. He wasn’t saying anything.

“Right,” the Master purred out with a roll in his eyes. “Of course.” He moved to undo the gag but paused to hold a finger up at him in warning. “Try to escape, and I’ll kill them,” he said darkly with a point back to Donna and Wilf. 

The Doctor snorted, but managed a small nod. When the gag was finally released, he rolled his jaw from side to side. “Just how do you think my mouth alone is capable of allowing me to escape?” He snarled out. “It’s good, I’ll grant you that, but it has its limits.”

“Shame,” Donna said with a growl. 

“Oh and you just shut up as well,” the Master sneered back at her. “I don’t need him giving me reason to wipe you from existence. You’re doing a good enough job of making me want to do it on your own.”

“Leave her alone,” the Doctor snapped. He then jutted his chin at the phone. “Well? You want me to get his attention, you best give me that.” His eyes locked on the monitor ahead of them, and to the image on the screen of wife and his brother. Fury curled his lip, and he stuffed that ire as far down into his belly as he was able to. The Master held the phone on his shoulder, and moved his head close to ensure that he wouldn’t miss a word… Even though it was still on speaker and such closeness was not at all required.

“Braxiatel,” the Doctor demanded down the phone at the same time the image showed Brax lifting the phone back to his ear. “Brax!”

“Hello Thete,” he answered as his back straightened up. He held his chest and shoulders up but dropped his face to look at the woman stumbling against him. There was strain in his voice. “Enjoying your playdate?”

“Not particularly,” he huffed. “And if you wouldn’t mind, I’d very much appreciate it if you would be a good man and get Rose out of there.”

“Oh, where’s the fun in that?” he bit back with a grin toward the camera. “She’s having fun, aren’t you darling?” He gave her a quick little sway of a dance, which she followed along with limply.

“Braxiatel, I mean it,” he ground out, calling out his brother’s name again when the phone was roughly taken from him and the Master once again took control. He struggled again against the ties that bound him. “Braxiatel!” he yelled out. “Please! Get her out of there!”

The Master did look toward the Doctor curiously. “Takes the role of Brother in Law quite serious, doesn’t he?” he remarked with a sneer. His voice fell to patronistic. “Oh don’t worry _brother of Rose_ , Braxie will make sure she’s safe and sound and ready to pop out a few more human Time Lord abominations when this is over.” He chuckled and went back to the call. “How are _my_ kids, by the way? Look like their papa?”

“What do you want with all these people?” Braxiatel huffed in question as he continued to support Rose against him. Her fight was waning. “The Entire planet. Six billion people. What could you possibly need of them…”

“A conduit,” the Doctor breathed to himself, his eyes widening with realisation. He lifted his head quickly. “Six billion people, all of them with one singular purpose.” His eyes flicked to the Master. “Yours…”

“That’s right,” he cheered through his teeth as he ran back to the Doctor. He rubbed hard at the Doctor’s head with his knuckled. “Oh, aren’t you so clever?” He let up a sharp laugh. “Though it took you enough time to work it out. Got the idea from you, after all.” He cupped his hand under the Doctor’s jaw and squeezed hard enough to pucker the Time Lord’s lips and render him unable to speak. “Remember? The Valiant? An entire planet of people thinking: _Doctor, Doctor, oh my Doctor_ , all at once?”

“You can’t,” he breathed out in reply. “You just can’t.”

“Oh, I think I can,” he scoffed. “If it’s alright for you, then why not for me as well?”

“They spoke my name of their free will, Master,” he corrected sharply. “You. You’re violating their minds, taking control to make them think exactly what you want them to.” He struggled again against the ties. “You can’t do this. It’s wrong. It’s just wrong!”

“Oh, but I am.” He waved his hand at him in a dismissive gesture. “And if you want to preach about improprieties in our methods, then let me remind you, Doctor that you sent out a human – one of your little stray lap dogs to do your bidding for you. To whisper the words in their ear about the _Doctor_.” His eyes widened dramatically when he spoke his old friend’s name. Then he sneered. “ _Martha_ , oh _Martha_ ,” he sang out with a skip in his step. “Sweet gullible Martha. Walking the entire planet for a year spreading the word of the Doctor.” He adopted the posture of a TV evangelist. “Oh blessed be the name of the Doctor.”

“Stop it,” he demanded darkly. Martha was brilliant, she didn’t need to be spoken of like that. 

The Master chuckled. “Six billion minds, all of them mine. Scattered all around the planet. My mind. My will. My power. One massive global amplifier sending out a signal across the entire universe. He then looked down and chuckled into the phone. “You once said I was breathtaking in how brilliant I could be, Braxiatel. How impressed are you now?”

His voice was chilled in reply. “Got what you need, Thete?”

“Yeah,” he drawled almost breathlessly in reply. 

“Good. So have I.”

The Master looked between the Doctor and the image of Braxiatel on the monitor. “Oh hold on,” he snarled. “This. No. No. No. No. This isn’t something that’s supposed to happen,” he remarked worriedly. “You two aren’t supposed to get along. You barely even acknowledge each other’s existence, let alone work together.”

“Hardly working together,” Braxiatel scoffed. “But in this case we do have a common interest.” There was a slight stammer in his voice. “And you’re going to need them all, aren’t you? All the humans.”

“Key points all over the world,” the Doctor agreed. “Take out one, and you’ve got a great big gaping hole in your amplifier.”

The Master laughed. “Yeah, good luck with that.” He looked at the Doctor. “Not even you have the power to do that.”

“No,” Braxiatel said almost emotionlessly. “He doesn’t. But I do.”

“Oh you do not!” The Master countered impatiently. “There isn’t sufficient power on this entire planet to counteract even a small fraction of what I’ve done.”

“There is,” Braxiatel answered with a look down to Rose. “The combined regenerative energy of a thousand Time Lord soldiers,” he began. “All that energy. All that incredible energy.” 

The Doctor looked horrified at the prospect. “What?”

Braxiatel looked up at the camera. “Raw Lindos energy, absorbed, concentrated, and held within such a small package. Swirling and hot and looking for release.” He inhaled deeply and his brows lifted with wonder and worry as he looked down to the woman in his arms. “That would cause an EMP blast that would wipe out all of London, and even the entire southern coast of England.”

The Doctor stilled, his eyes falling down on Rose. “Oh no. Brax. What have you done?”

The Master rushed the monitor. “What are you talking about?” he demanded. “It’s impossible to capture the fire of regeneration, especially not all of that energy in one hit. There’s no vessel that can survive that.”

“Absorption,” Braxiatel stated softly. His eyes lifted darkly toward the camera once more. “Slowly building up over time..”

“The boiling frog,” the Doctor breathed out. “Slowly being boiled alive.”

The Master glared at his old friend. “What are the two of you talking about?”

“A frog,” the Doctor said with his eyes flicking toward the Master. “Put it into a pot of boiling water and it will jump out. The heat is too great, and it so it will clamour out of the pot as fast as possible.” His eyes slid to the monitor. “But you put the frog into a pot of cool water and slowly bring it to boil, it won’t sense the danger, won’t struggle, and will be cooked to death.” He jerked against his ties, frantic for freedom. “Brax. What did you do? What have you done?”

“Just needs a little push,” he answered softly. “One more heartbreak or sudden shock to her system.”

“Don’t you dare,” the Doctor warned with a loud yell. “A release like that. You don’t know what it’ll do. It could kill her!”

The Master flicked his attention between the monitor and the Doctor in an absolute frantic panic at the other end of the room. He looked back to the monitor, realisation dawning quickly. “Braxiatel. Listen to your brother. Don’t you dare…”

Braxiatel gave a look of determination toward the monitor. “I’ve got to do what needs to be done,” he muttered. Without disconnecting the call, he threw the phone off to the side. The Doctor could see a short glimmer of something unreadable in his brother’s eyes before he turned away, something akin to apology and regret, perhaps, but it was short lived. He cupped Rose’s face in both hands, and with a tilt of his head, he pressed his lips against hers. Hard. He kept one hand on her cheek as the other snapped across her back hauled her up against his chest to haul her up tight against his chest. Even with the distance between the couple and the camera above their heads, it was clear that this was not a simple benign connection. Braxiatel was hardly tender of gentle, he deepened that connection with almost lightning speed, making her taste him as much as possible.

Before either the Doctor or the Master could react to the image on the screen ahead of them, both Braxiatel and Rose were propelled backward and away from each other. Braxiatel fell onto his hip on the road, his arm across the belly and the other on his head in quite obvious pain. Rose didn’t’ fall as he did. She staggered off to one side, tripping into a stumble that dropped her onto a knee. Her chest and shoulders remained upright, swaying as though caught in a breeze. Her chest heaved as she found a breath, and then another, more of them taken in quicker succession until she had her head lifted and panted hard and violent breaths of amber into the sky. After a moment her hands lifted to clutch at her head and her panted breaths became a long and loud cry, a scream toward the universe.

From within her a there was a swell of something hot. And, just like that day inside a Dalek ship near the cascades on Gallifrey, her beast heaved forward and her shoulders fell back as a brilliant blast of ancient raw energy exploded from her chest and shot across the street.

All any of them saw was a flash of amber on the monitor, and her shrill and desperate cry heard through the phone that had been discarded on the road suddenly cut to silence. 

The Doctor hollered out to Rose, his voice calling until he had no breath left to continue. The lights above him, the monitors, the static on a radio. The whole lot of them zapped, spluttered, and then shut off. His whole body slumped and he battled against a break.

The Master rushed him before the Doctor could lost the battle against breaking completely. He clutched at the lapel of his suit blazer. “What did he do? What did your brother do?”

“Exactly what he said he’d do,” the Doctor answered with a hoarse croak in his voice. “Just like he always does.”

“If he thinks this will stop me, Doctor, then he’s got it wrong.” His lip curled. “This will only make me more determined to destroy this filthy little insignificant rock you seem to love so much.” He sniffed and then shorted against the Doctor’s nose. “He can’t stop what’s already begun …. And neither can –“

His words stopped suddenly, and the Master dropped to the ground in a blonde and hooded heap on the floor.

“By the Gods he is a painful Lord to have to hear natter on,” Hellequn muttered with disdain in her voice. “If the Cardinal hadn’t given orders stating that he was not to be killed, I would have shot him thirty minutes ago.”

“Commander,” the Doctor said with a pinch in his brows as he tried to focus in the dark. “What’re you doing here?”

“Retrieving you as per orders,” she said with a shrug as she moved around him to release him from his ties. “Your companions and you will be taken to Romana’s capsule for rendezvous with the Cardinal in preparation for the next part of the assignment.”

“I’m sorry,” he muttered with a hard pinch in one eye and a widening of the other. “Assignment? Rendezvous? What are you doing here?” He looked around her to see two other similarly dressed soldiers releasing both Donna and Wilf from their ties. “ _How_ are you all here?”

She smirked and lifted her wrist to display a thick leather band. “Vortex manipulator, Sir.”

“Don’t call me Sir,” he muttered. He held off asking whether or not they knew they had fallen in the war. It was clear that not only had they not, but that the war was still ongoing. How, he had no idea, and he didn’t need the headache that overthinking it would cause. Instead he muttered his thanks and jogged around her to check on his companions. 

Donna was in his arms with a whimper almost immediately. She remained in his hold as he leaned around to check on old Wilf, who seemed quite chuffed to being looked over for injury by an attractive female soldier. 

“No need to ask how you’re doing,” he observed with a smirk. He looked down to Donna and drew his thumb over her cheek. “You and I have a few things we need to talk about it seems.”

“Not now, Doctor,” she deflected with a rough clearing of her throat and then pulled out of his hold. “Bigger things to worry about right now. Oh. Yeah. And I’m okay, _thanks for asking_.”

He scratched at his sideburn and let his attention shift to Hellequin. “So?”

“I’ll let her Lady Romana explain,” she said with a lift in her brows as she put her arms around him in preparation for dematerialisation.

There was genuine surprise in his expression, and a sound of longing in his voice. “Romana’s here?”

He didn’t even notice the dematerialisation and jump through the vortex. The next sound he hears was the soft voice of a very old friend. “Yes, Doctor,” Romana said with a laugh in her voice from the console. “I’m very much here.”

He was close to incredibly rude in the way he pushed himself off Hellequn and ran toward the console. He skidded to a stop just opposite Romana. “By Rassilon,” he breathed out. “It is so good to see you again.”

Her eyes flared for a short moment. “We’ll discuss just how happy you are to see me in a moment.” She flipped a lever and held her hand out to Hellequn for her vortex manupulator. “Right now, I need to check on my mate and get us out of here before Koschei recovers and rebuilds his energy.” She took the manipulator and walked to the doorway. “Which I don’t imagine will take too long. We have much to do in the meantime.”

She pushed open the doors to the capsule and paused for a moment at the sight that lay beyond the door. Rose was her back on the tarmac road. Braxiatel was on his knees and leaned over her, his hand on her cheek and his chin on her forehead. The expression she could see only via the side profile that was offered to her was one that was full of pain and regret.

“Braxiatel,” she called with a flick of her wrist to toss him the manipulator. “Send her home. Medical are prepared for her arrival.”

He snatched the device out of the air and quickly fastened it to her wrist. He kissed her knuckles and muttered his apology, and then with the press of a button, sent her back to the house in a flash of light. The light had barely dissipated and he saw a comet of brown rush toward him from the capsule. All he heard was a low growl and a profane insult attached to his name, and then felt a hard crack of a fist against his jaw. He didn’t even bother to try to remain on his feet to maintain dignity. He let the power of that single strike throw him to the ground. He landed hard on his hip and felt the taste of iron on his tongue. With a sneer, he spat at the ground and then wiped at his lip with his thumb. He looked upward to see the furiously heaving form of his brother towering above him.

“Hello Thete.”


	79. Fury of the Doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thete's not happy with his big brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actually quite timid about this posting ...
> 
> Nothing to say, really, except I hope you enjoy this one...

~~oooOOOooo~~

If there was anyone in the universe who knew what level of fury the Doctor was capable of, it was Irving Braxiatel. He’d grown up with him, after all. His brother hid himself well within a rather adorable child-like and seemingly carefree persona that drew affections from all sorts of peoples. But at the crux of it, he _was_ loomed at Lungbarrow with carefully selected genes from their father and the residual filthy stains of their cousins on the cold marble slab of the loom. Because of them there was a streak within him that could make him just as dangerous and unfeeling as the rest of the Lungbarrow ilk…

…Of course, it did tend to take a bit of effort to get him there and as kids, Braxiatel did push it just for kicks. Once he was able to push him there, though, once that fuse had been lit, it was very difficult to rein him back in. Not even their mother could temper him when the two of them warred against the other in the halls of Lungbarrow.

But, while he could be furious at a level unreachable by any other, one thing that wasn’t typical for his brother was violence. No. Thete would destroy with his incredibly intelligent mind and vocabulary. They were his weapons of choice in any furious moment. The sizzle of his rage was more than enough to make anyone to step back with a flinch. He didn’t ever feel the need to use his fist to get his point across…

… Until today.

Braxiatel didn’t bother to lift himself up off the ground. He remained on his hip, supported upward with his elbow on the road, and looked up at his brother in a furious tower above him. He dropped his head and looked to the ground. There was very little emotion left inside him except resignation.

“Do your worst,” he said in a tone that was barely a challenge. “Not like I don’t deserve it.”

The Doctor’s eye twitched. The fists that were curled at his hips clenched and then relaxed. He leaned down and took a fistful of the front of Braxiatel’s shirt, hauling him up just enough that he could sneer into his face. “You’re not worth the pain in my knuckles,” he seethed out. “Certainly not if you think it’s going to make you feel any better about what you just did.” He pushed his fist against Braxiatel’s chest and released the hold of his shirt. 

The Doctor levered himself upward and turned to one side to look down at his brother along his shoulder rather than offer the respect to face him directly. “You know,” he began. “I always knew you were capable of heinous acts, Brax. I’ve heard the legends and rumours spread out across the universe about some of the things – the betrayals - you’ve done in the name of Mother Gallifrey.” He sniffed. “Things that none of us should show any pride nor acceptance in. Things that make the rest of us look like arrogant, self righteous fools lording ourselves over the turn of the universe.”

“I do what I have to,” he huffed. “Because the likes of you never will.”

“But this,” the Doctor continued. “This?” His face creased into a look of disgust. “This is low, even for you.”

Braxiatel drew himself up onto his knee. He kept himself low to remain under the glare of the Doctor. “And where would you be if I didn’t do it?” His eyes lifted darkly. He looked up at his brother with a glare through his brows. “Captive to the Master with your companions at risk of dying by his hand.”

The Doctor curled a lip and sniffed indignantly. “I would have gotten out as I always do.” He looked away from his brother. “I had it in hand.”

“That’s woprat-shit, and you know it,” he charged with a sneer. “All you would have done was try and convince your _old friend_ to come back across to the _light_ -side. Beg and plead for him to see all that’s good in the universe and how the two of you should hold hands and skip through the great vast expanse of it _together_ like a pair of star-crossed lovers.” He finally drew to a kneel. “Do correct me, of course, if you had another plan.”

The Doctor just stared at him.

“Just as I thought.” Braxiatel finally lifted to his feet. “You consider me the swamprat, yet anything I’ve done in the past _in the name of our people_ pale in comparison to the misdeeds undertaken by that insane fool hell bent on taking control over the universe in its the entirety.” He brushed his shirt and then his thighs down with his hands. “You’ll support and defend his every action while you condemn mine.”

“He didn’t go after my wife,” he seethed out with a curl in his lip indicating that his ire was once again on the rise. “ _You_ did.”

“I did not go after your wife,” he snapped angrily, “as you so eloquently put it. I _protected_ her – Something you’ve neglected to do in the past four hundred and fifty yours of your existence.”

The Doctor’s jaw dropped open at that argument. His eyes were wide with total and utter disbelief as he followed the slow walk of Braxiatel toward the capsule. “How in Rassilon was _that_ protecting her?” he asked incredulously as he gestured with both hands toward the street. “You could have killed her. Why? So you could get the last laugh in against the Master?”

Braxiatel leaned a hand against the capsule and lowered his head. He let out a long breathtoward the ground. “I don’t even want to dignify that with a response.”

“Well you’d better,” the Doctor snarled low. “Because I’m asking you with as much calm as I’m capable of right now.”

Braxiatel kept his head low but turned it to look toward him. “The Master had control of the entire planet. His mind in each and every single one of these weak-minded humans. In doing what I did, I was able to force him to lose control of the entire southern coast of England, which brought us time to create a plan to defeat whatever it is that’s coming to this planet.” He huffed. “Time that you’re wasting right now arguing with me about..”

“Betrayal,” the Doctor interrupted with a seethe through his teeth. “And it wasn’t anything less than that, Brax.” He took a step closer to him to bring their noses to within inches of each other. “I saw her. I saw the faith, the hope, and the trust Rose had in you. She was desperate for help, and instead of doing that, you betrayed her…”

Braxiatel snorted. “You say that like I’ve never betrayed anyone before. Bit of an M.O. where I’m concerned, didn’t you know?”

“No one that mattered!” he snapped. His eyes narrowed. “Or doesn’t Rose matter to you?”

Rose mattered to him. Of course she did. She mattered a great deal to him. She was a big part of his life. She was family. And this was killing him inside.

“Tell you what, Thete,” he muttered quietly. “When you can tell me with absolute honesty that you’ve never betrayed or hurt anyone that you truly care about, then you can judge me for it.” He looked at him with tiredness in his eyes. “But you can’t, and so you won’t.” He pushed off the capsule. “Ultimately, this is something that’s between Rose and I. You can be mad and hate me all you want, as can Romana, as can everyone else. But you hate me for your own reasons, and not on her behalf.” He turned his back on his brother. “You insult her if you do.”

“I’d much rather insult her than betray her,” he flipped back.

Braxietel pushed on the door to the capsule. “And when you were with the French girl, Thete, you did both.” He looked over his shoulder at him. “And then you abandoned her and left her to die. At least I made sure she was safe when _I_ betrayed her.”

The Doctor let out a loud growl and slammed both hands into his brother’s back. He clutched hard at the back of his Oxford and shoved him hard toward the Console. Braxiatel collided hard with it and turned with a sneer. “Truth hurts, doesn’t it, Thete?”

“You don’t get to bring that up,” the Doctor growled hotly into his face. “That is something between Rose and I, and not a weapon in to be put in your arsenal to be used against me when you’re losing the argument.”

“You use what’s available to you,” Braxiatel seethed with a smirk. “And trust me, brother, you’ve given me more than enough ammunition over the years. At least when I do cross over to the dark side to do what needs to be done, I own it – despite whatever repercussions come from it.”

“No part of what you just did to her _needed_ to be done,” the Doctor snapped, his hands closing over Braxiatel’s collar. “None of it!”

Romana’s voice cut in sharply from beside them both. “That’s enough from the both of you!”

The Doctor looked at her with fury in his eyes. He removed one hand from Braxiatel’s collar to point at her. His eyes remained on his brother. “Just how complicit in this are you, Romana? Did you know he was going to do this to her? To my _wife_?”

“She knew none if it,” Braxiatel spat. He snapped a hand to grab at the Doctor’s collar. “So don’t you dare turn your hostility on her.”

“I don’t need you to stand in my corner, Cardinal,” Romana said sharply, her eyes on fire toward her husband. “I’m perfectly capable of standing up for myself.” She then looked toward the Doctor. “Now if you don’t mind. This is _my_ capsule, and therefore I demand a little more respect not only toward her, but toward the other guests here. Straighten yourselves out and show a little more dignity will you.”

Both men immediately separated. They adopted near identical movements of straightening themselves out with tugs and wipe downs of their clothing. Once straightened out, the Doctor thrust his hands into his trouser pockets, and Braxiatel folded his arms across his chest. Both men stood with their feet shoulder-width apart and a slouch only in the seat of their shoulders. The expression on their faces were matching scowls of indignance.

“You can tell you’re brothers,” Romana huffed out with annoyance. “Petulant creatures, the both of you.” She shot a finger up toward the Doctor, when it looked like he was going to respond. “Not a word from you, Doctor. Not a single word.” Her eyes shot to her husband when he snorted in amusement. “And nothing from you, either, Cardinal.” She walked around the other side of the console and flipped the dematerialisation lever. “Into the vortex for the moment,” she muttered to herself.

The Doctor shifted a look to his brother. “If there’s one thing at all that I can take pleasure in with all this, it’s that your mate is as livid with you as I am.” He looked back to the front and swallowed down a smile. “I’ve never seen her this furious.”

“You have no idea,” she ground out with a lift of her eyes from the control panel. “But that will be dealt with later. For now we have more important things to focus on, such as: What is the Mater’s ultimate goal, and just how does it involve Rassilon?”

The Doctor broke from his rigid stance. His eyes were wide with worry. “I’m sorry, _who_?”

“Rassilon,” she answered him with soft calm, her anger fleeing for business. She exhaled a breath and looked toward Braxiatel. “Don’t you have a call to make?”

“Indeed,” he answered as he broke his own rigidity and strode across the console. “You’ll brief him, then?” He answered her nod with one of his own. He accepted a communication device from Hellequn and walked to the far wall. He leaned against the wall, his arm curled up over his head, and his forehead on his arm. He spoke quiet enough that his side of the conversation was inaudible.

Romana looked back to the Doctor, who had by now walked to take up position at her side. His hands were still in his trouser pockets, and he rocked back on his heels in an indication that he was trying to tamp down his impatience to hear whatever it was that Romana needed to _brief_ him on.

“Despite your brother leading the resistance movement against Rassilon, he does still hold high office in the Capitol with access to council chambers. He sits in on most council meetings and has fairly good knowledge of most – but not all – of Rassilon’s movements.” 

The Doctor expelled a dark breath of annoyance. He quickly noted the way Hellequn and her team slowly filled the round console area in tight formation. “When I was in the war, I heard rumours of a resistance movement that worked behind the scenes.” He frowned lightly. “But that’s all I thought it was – just rumours.”

“That’s odd,” Hellequn admitted curiously. “As right now, you’re at the base location for the resistence having transported members of your team for medical treatment.”

He blinked and shook his head. His expression pinched toward argument. “No,” he breathed out. “I never did any such thing.” He looked back to Romana. “Surely you’re mistaken.” 

“You’re there right now,” Romana confirmed. She breathed out a sad breath. “And I’m very sorry about that, Doctor. I didn’t know the sequence of events that your brother had set in motion until it was too late. I would never have allowed it otherwise.”

“You say that like you’d even have the choice,” he said in reply with a lift of his eyes toward his brother. Braxiatel was still in a lean against the wall on the phone speaking quietly. “He doesn’t often let on what he’s up to until he’s already done it.” His eyes flicked to her. “What does he know that is so great that he had to go to these lengths.”

“Ascension,” Hellequn offered. “The Rise of the Time Lords in the Ultimate Sanction. Otherwise known as the destruction of reality to elevate the select chosen few members of our society to ascend as Gods over the universe.” She snorted. “Gods over a universe devoid of all life…”

“To create a new universe in their vision,” the Doctor added with a nod of his head. “Yes. I was aware of that plan. Not that much of a secret once Arcadia fell and the Daleks moved on the Captiol.” He looked at Romana. “But it was a flawed plan. Despite all of Rassilon’s efforts, he wasn’t able to draw the energy needed to execute the Final Sanction.”

“You already know how this all ends, don’t you?” Hellequn asked with a light tic of her eye toward him. “You’re the man after the war ends.”

“I’m not telling you how it ends,” he growled. “So don’t ask.”

“Actually,” Braxiatel cut in as he returned from the group. “What you think you know about the war isn’t entirely accurate to what happened.” He took position next to Romana and gave her a quick glance. “Rose is fine. She was received by the medical teams in a restorative coma-state and is resting comfortably with Thete and Sarah Jane at her side.”

Romana’s eyes blew wide. “I’m sorry, she’s in a what? Restorative coma?”

He reached for her hand, desperate to feel a slight bit of comfort to settle the beats of his hearts. When she snapped her hand from his reach in an exaggerated and very obvious manner, he closed his eyes and breathed out hard. “They’re quite stymied by it, themselves, but unfortunately don’t have the lab and equipment required to properly examine and study her to draw any conclusions. Add to that Thete is rather vehemently opposed to them performing anything of that nature on her anyway…”

The Doctor seemed just as shocked. “Allow me to add in my own incredulous question of: What? _I’m_ with her? Which incarnation of me? And by the Gods please tell me that I am not complicit in this atrocity.”

“You were just as much a pawn as she was,” Braxiatel answered with almost defeat in his voice. “Until a few hours ago, _that_ you didn’t even know she existed.”

“I’m sorry, what?” The Doctor looked toward Romana. His expression was one of exasperation close to explosion. “If you want me to call a temporary truce and not choke him into regeneration, then you need to tell him to shut up.”

“You asked,” he shot back. “I answered. With the truth.” His eyes narrowed. “Or would you like me to pretty it all up and lie to you? Will that make you feel better?”

He glared at him. “It’s your M.O., isn’t it? Lies and betrayal.”

“Betrayal,” Braxiatel answered from across the console. “but not lies, Thete. That’s your domain, not mine.”

“Enough,” Romana said quietly with a rub at her brows. “This isn’t helping matters at all. Fight and kill each other later. I won’t stop you. For now, let’s share what we know and give the Doctor the tools he’ll need to counter off what’s coming. Please.”

She looked up to Hellequn. “Commander, what have your teams managed to gain from their own reconnaissance efforts?”

“On Gallfirey, or here?” she questioned. “Because we have information from both sources.”

“Let’s start with Gallifrey.”

Hellequn looked toward Braxiatel. “It seems that your concern about Rassilon working with the Master has merit.” She looked to the Romana. “At the Cardinal’s request, we did analyze the chatter coming out “of the capitol, and much of it is nonsensical to the …” she shrugged and slid an eye toward Braxiatel. ..the _uninitiated_ and _unappointed_ members of society.”

Braxiatel dropped his forehead into his hand and let out a long sound of annoyance. “Do keep in mind that my allegiance toward council is for intelligence only. Not all members of council have the same opinion toward others.”

Hellequn smirked at his discomfort. “Most of them, however…”

“Do be wary,” Romana warned lightly. “I was once the one who led council.”

“And what an age that was, ma’am,” Hellequn said with a light bow of her head. She then straightened up. “What we are sure of, however, is that all squadrons and battle capsule pilots have been recalled by Rassilon. No matter where across Kasterborous they’re stationed all of them have been instructed to return to Gallifrey and defend the capitol.” She blinked slowly. “It’s the opinion of my unit that Rassilon is setting in motion an event of such a magnitude that it may draw Gallifrey from the war entirely.”

“Draw in what way?” Roana asked with wary horror.

“Exactly what you’re thinking,” she offered in reply. “When I say draw, I mean move it out of the battlezone completely.”

The Doctor’s lip curled with incredulity and disbelief. “And just how does he think he’s going to pull off something that?: his brows lifted and he scratched at a sideburn as he tried to quickly work through numbers in his mind. “You’re suggesting he wants to move the entire planet. The power required for something of that magnitude … _well_ … I’m talking about a phenomenal amount of raw energy.” He looked at Braxiatel. “You say that Arcadia has already been taken and that the Daleks are encroaching on the Captiol.”

“Correct,” Braxiatel answered. “We’re at the end of Gallifrey’s ability to hold on and continue her fight. The planet is almost barren. Nothing left.”

The Doctor rubbed at his chin in thought. “Depleted of resources, it’s people exhausted,” he said under his breath. He looked up, and lifted a hand, curling it into a loose fist as he talked himself through it. “But still enough fight left in the people that they could be forced into creating a massive telepathic lasso around the planet. Of course that would require…” His head tilted in a roll toward one side. “Well, that would mean Rassilon would somehow force a mental intrusion of anything with any telepathic ability, which isn’t all of them.” He shook his head. “Not all of Gallifrey have that ability.”

“Our soldiers do,” Hellequn offered. “It’s a mandatory ability for entry into the forces. That as well as regenerative package from the Academy.”

“Which would explain the forces being recalled from Kasterborous,” Braxiatel mused with a rub of his chin. “Rassilon has the power for a full mental takeover of all his forces.”

“But he’d need full control of minds over the anchor point,” Romana injected. “And while Rassilon might have reach over Gallifrey, he doesn’t have the same reach toward another species as well.”

“The Master does,” the Doctor answered quietly. He focused on no one, but his eyes lifted and widened as he spoke and his chin lifted high so that he spoke an almost strangled sound from his throat.. “Six billion minds. All of them controlled by him – by the Master.”

“Six billion minds that don’t know how to fight against an intrusion like that,” Braxiatel offered darkly. “And now all of them are now completely under his control.” He lifted his eyes to the Doctor. “He plans on taking Gallifrey from the war and bringing it here, to Earth. The _entire_ planet pulled across the cosmos.” He covered his mouth in his hand and shook his head. “Earth can’t survive that. There’ll be a collision of the two of them; Earth and Gallifrey. Earth is only a fraction of the size of Gallifrey. It can’t possibly sustain a collision like that. It will be disintegrated completely.”

There were several gasps, all containing absolute horror. But aside from a few muttered. “Oh my God,” and “What?” no one interrupted the two brothers as they worked through the information.

“And that’s why he needed full global reach,” the Doctor continued. He looked up at his brother. “Because the minds of humans. Oh, they’re brilliant. So very brilliant…”

“But not strong enough to engage only a few of them to pull this off,” Braxiatel offered. “He needs them all. He needs this planet completely networked. No gaps.” He swallowed thickly and folded his arms loosely across his chest. “Rose may have been able to put a dent in in his plans, but I don’t anticipate it will take Koschei too long to recoup that loss.”

“You and I are going to have a serious discussion later about that,” the Doctor warned him.

“Are you going to punch me again?” Braxiatel shot back. “Try and balance it out, yeah, go for the other side of the jaw. I’ve still got feeling on that side.”

“Children!” Romana snapped. “This is not the time.”

Braxiatel gave her a wide-eyed look of incredulity. “What did you just call me?”

“You heard me crystal clear,” she shot back. Her eyes shifted to the Doctor. “The Cardinal is right. The damage created by Rose’s Lindos blast will be short lived…”

“Another question I have,” the Doctor muttered with a look to his brother. He then looked back to Romana when she exhaled a huff of annoyance. “The Master’s hypnotic ability is being amplified at a location I haven’t yet ascertained. If the blast took out his amplifier, then we may have released more minds than just London.” 

“I don’t know that I’d be comfortable in making that assumption,” Romana said with a purse in her lips.

“I agree with her Lord President,” Hellequn agreed firmly. “We did have personnel doing a trace for Alien technology, and they did settle on central London as a possible base of operations.” She passed her eyes to Braxiatel. “Cardinal, Sir. As effective as Rose’s intervention was to supress the Lord Master’s hold on the city, unfortunately it did affect our own scanning equipment as well. It will take some time to get the scanner functioning again. We can only hope that the amplifier was also affected.”

“Although I suggested it, the probability that it did is unlikely,” the Doctor muttered. “The Master is brilliant. He would have set in safe guards against an attack like that.” He leaned down on the console and looked toward Hellequn. “Commander, can you give me the general search radius you identified? Perhaps if I take a look at it, I can settle us on a more accurate location.”

“Come around here,” she told him with a flick of her head. “I can have the search data uploaded to the Capsule, and we can work from there.”

He ran his hand along the counter as he moved toward her. His eyes were on Romana. “Can you pilot your TARDIS toward this location? Once we’ve identified a more pinpointed site, I can drop in.”

“Tell me you’re not being literal,” Braxiatel barked out. 

“I am,’ he confirmed without looking at him. “Very much so. Just open the doors, and I’ll drop on down for a vbisit with my old friend.”

“Drop down from a capsule in flight?” Braxiatel scoffed. “Don’t be a fool. You fell from a radio tower in your fourth incarnation and ended up having to regenerate. There is no way that you can possibly think I’d allow you to drop from a height of…” He dropped his face into his hand. “You know what? Never mind. It’s a waste of my voice. You’ll do what you’ll do no matter what any of us say.”

His eyes shifted toward Braxiatel. “Pot, meet kettle.”

“Do any of these things have guns or bomb on them?” Donna asked from outside the group. She’d remained silent to this point, but felt the need to jump in. “I mean, couldn’t you just drop a heatseeker or something on him.” She swept her hair over her shoulder. “You’d take him, and then the amplifier out. Control of the entire human race no longer an issue.”

Braxiatel gave her a smile. “I have always liked you, Donna.”

“And once upon a time I liked you too,” she said in reply. “But now I’m really not sure I do anymore.”

He exhaled and lifted his head to the top of the rotor column. “No. Of course not.”

“Another discussion we need to have,” the Doctor muttered. His eyes lifted to Donna and softened somewhat. “Unfortunately, no. only specific TARDISes are fitted with weaponry. Typically there are only very rudimentary self defence systems on board.” He shrugged and shook his head. “Nothing capable of launching an attack.”

“And even then,” Hellequn offered. “A capsule will not allow his or her pilot to input any attack protocols that could risk collateral damage. There are bound to be innocent humans caught up in this. No capsule will fire, and they can’t be overridden to do so.”

“So what do we do then?” Donna asked.

“You do nothing,” the Doctor answered her quickly. His brows were high, and his finger pointed to her in warning. “You will stay here with Romana and Braxiatel. Safe. I’ll handle the Master. Alone.”

“The Hell you will,” she argued with a look up and down at him. “You think I’m safe here, with him? You saw what he did to Rose.”

Braxiatel uttered a curse that had each Gallifreyan member on the command deck flinch in its severity as he slammed both hands down hard on the console. Without taking the time to excuse himself for being rude, he leaned across Romana and flipped a lever in front of her.

“What are you doing?” the Doctor asked quickly, his voice hard, yet concerned, as he felt the materialisation of the capsule.

“Commander,’ Braxiatel ordered firmly without answering the Doctor. “Your team. With me.” He turned to walk toward the door, but was stopped by his brother putting a hand on his chest. “Thete, get out of my way.”

“Whatever you’re planning to do, don’t do it.”

“That’s funny,” he chuckled as he took the Doctor’s hand and shoved it off his chest. His voice darkened. “Isn’t that what I always say to you? And how does that usually work out for me?” He looked back to Romana. “I’ll work ground with Commander Hellequn’s team. Get him in the air like he wants you to, and if he wants to fall out of the sky and splat himself into a regeneration, then let him. I’m done with him _and_ his strays.”

“Don’t’ say that,” she breathed in reply with a tilted head. “You don’t mean it.”

“My hearts beat for you,” he vowed with a press of his hand in the centre of his chest as he gave her a light bow. He waited a moment for her to reply. When he didn’t, he huffed disappointedly and spun on his heel. He waved his hand over his shoulder. “Come on, Commander,” he called out in order as he opened the capsule doors to a pitch black street outside. “We’ve got things to do, and a megalomaniac to send back to Kasterborous.”

Romana watched him leave without expression. The four crimson-suited soldiers that were in her capsule filed out obediently behind him. She knew that wasn’t all of them, though. He had a grouping of nearly thirty men and women, with capsule pilots and ships on standby. Between them all there was enough firepower to mow down several entire blocks of London. No doubt her husband would be given a weapon to carry as well…

…And Braxiatel was a damn good shot. Especially when he was pissed off. Which he was right now.

She exhaled and rubbed her eyes with her thumb and finger. “And today started so well…”

“You didn’t return his affection,” the Doctor noted curiously. 

She ignored his question and flipped up the dematerialisation lever to take them back up into the vortex. “Did you manage to get the final scans from Commander Hellequn?” she asked almost casually.

“I did,” he answered with his hands flying over the keyboard to try and refine the data. “I should have a location shortly and will set the coordinates.”

“Good.”

“Can I charge you with the care of my companions?” he asked without looking at her. 

“You can,” she said softly. “I will be required on the ground to support a secondary ground team,” she advised softly. “But provided they remain on board until I return, they will be safe … as they would be in the TARDIS.”

His head lifted fast. “That’s it. The TARDIS.” His eyes widened and his hands flew fast over the keyboard. “The Master kept on me about the location of the TARDIS…” he tipped his shoulder up to his ear as he typed. “Even though I had a gag in my mouth and couldn’t speak…”

“Is she safe?” Romana asked worriedly.

“Very,” he answered her with a smile as he briefly lifted his eyes to hers. They sparkled a little with cheek. “The most important woman in my life, of course she’s safe.” His eyes flashed at that and he shook himself and refocused back on the console. “That is. Well. In my life for a millennia. Moreso than any other.”

“Understood, Doctor,” Romana said with a roll in her eyes.

“Anyway. Yes. She’s just a slight fraction out of time. Half a second. Just enough of a temporal distortion that no one but me can find her.” He grit his teeth and leaned forward in an excessive reach for a switch on the other side of the console. “For some reason, most likely to steal her, the Master is eager to get to her.” His lips pursed and he pulled his glasses from his pocket and slipped them on his nose. He leaned in closer to the monitor. “He would be able to get a fix on her general location. Draw some power off her while she’s in stasis. Not too much, but probably enough to kick start that amplifier of his back into fill power.”

“Are you sure that he’ll be unable to locate her?”

“Not enough to take control of her,” he answered with a shake in his head. His mouth then stretched into a wide grin and he let out a sound of vcictory. “A-HA! Found it. Found the source of the signal.’ He ran around the console to input coordinate data. “Right where I thought it might be as well. An area with a whole lot of technology and power in one very convenient location.”

“Let me land,” Romana cautioned him. “Get in there safely.”

“That’ll take away my element of surprise,” he said with a wink and a smile. “And we can’t do that now, can we?” 

His smile faltered somewhat when he turned to his companions. “Donna. Wilf. This is where we part ways.”

“That sounds permanent,” Donna said worriedly. 

“Nah,” he drawled. “Never permanent. Not really. I’m always around in some way. In one face or another.” He walked to Donna and pulled her in for a tight hug. He growled thankfully in her ear. “You were brilliant. Are brilliant. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“This isn’t where I get off,” she warned him. “You come back, yeah?”

“I’ll do my best.” He released her and looked toward Wilfred. He clicked in a breath of air through his teeth and gave him a salute. “Wilf. A pleasure. As always.”

Wilf took a step toward him and thrust his shaking hands toward the Doctor. “Take this, Doctor.”

The Doctor looked down at their hands. He felt the cool metal of an old six-shot revolver on his skin and his face pulled up into a discomforted expression. “Oh. No. Really, Wilf. I can’t.”

“You have to,” he urged him firmly. “You can’t go in there with that madman and not have protection.”

“I’ve got it,” he answered with a grin and a tap at his own temple. “Up here. Best weapon of them all.”

“Take it,” Wilf demanded. He cupped both his hands around the Doctor’s hand and the gun. “Use it or don’t, but take it. I insist.”

The Doctor gave him a weak smile and nodded. He held up the gun across his palm to show it to him, and then gripped his fingers around the handle of the weapon. He jogged to the doorway and hauled it open, stepping back at the blast of winds from the outside. He turned back to the trio on the command deck. “Well.” He sang with an unsure expression. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” Wilf called out with a flick of his hand.

“You better come back,” Donna called out. “If you don’t. I’ll kill you myself.”

He smiled at them both and then passed a look of worry toward Romana. “Well. Here goes.” He spun in the doorway and dipped his knees to launch himself over the threshold of the TARDIS and down to the glass dome below. “Allonsy!”

~~oooOOOooo~~


	80. Return of Rassilon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's back, old Rassilon...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lost the entire chapter I wrote ... I did. The whole damn lot of it. For some reason my autosave didn't work, and the only other version of the document I could find in the hopes of retreiving anything, was from a week ago.
> 
> Thanks MSWord....
> 
> That said, I had to rewrite the lot of it. Try and remember what I'd written. A bunch of hours of work GONE! That said, I had to really work and access the speed force with my fingers to pull something together quickly for today. My intention to finish this arc up was quashed, obviously. Which means another day of this one... Sorry. I'm as eager to get through it as much as many of you must be.
> 
> I know a bunch of you hate old Brax right now. I don't know that this will make you feel any better about him ... Really depends on where you think he's going with this, I suppose.
> 
> Anyhoo, I do hope you enjoy. It's short, but for reasons out of my control today I'm afraid.

~~oooOOOooo~~

Donna ran to the door of Romana’s capsule with the Doctor’s name on her lips. She only made it to the edge of the blasts of wind outside before the pair of doors slammed shut. Unable to stop, she collided hard with them. She rolled her shoulder along the sterile white wood and offered Romana a glare.

“Why’d you shut the doors?”

“I didn’t,” she remarked quietly. “My capsule has a safety feature that will keep those doors shut if we’re in flight.” 

Donna stalked toward the console. Her arm was thrust out toward the doors. “Then how did _he_ get them open?”

Romana pointed toward a button on the console panel. “Because I had my finger on the override button.” She then turned her hand, palm up, in a low shrug that only tipped her hand rather than her shoulders. “When I took my finger off the button the safety protocols reactivated.” She looked to the door. “Which is why you didn’t fall out just now, which, with the general velocity at which you were running did seem to be the most likely outcome if the doors remained open.”

“So,” Donna growled as she folded her arms across her chest. “So what you’re telling me is that you just let him jump out?” Her eyes narrowed in anger. “You let him jump to his death?”

Romana remained calm despite Donna’s clear anger toward her right now. She understood the hostility and couldn’t fault her for it. “You’ve been friends with the Doctor for how long now, Donna?”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“Well, I would think that in that time, you’d know that the Doctor is going to do what he wants to do regardless of any barriers put in place to prevent it.” She sighed gently as she moved around the console. “In that regard, he’s very much like his brother. Very much like them all, actually.”

“He’s _nothing_ like his brother,” Donna snapped taking offence on behalf of the Doctor. “He’d never do what Irving did.”

“Don’t be so sure about that,” Romana said with her voice remaining gentle. She continued to pilot her craft and therefore really didn’t engage the conversation as politely as she should. “He’s certainly had comparable moments in his past.”

“I _think_ I know him better than that,” she corrected quickly. “Been with him for a year now-”

“And I’ve known him for several centuries, through almost as many incarnations,” Romana interrupted as her eyes finally lifted. “I was at his side for more than half a century as his companion. We were half a heartsbeat from becoming mates before the both of us decided it would be nothing but a foolish endeavour.” She tilted her head at her. “So shall we continue to compete, Donna?” She looked at her wrist as though looking at a watch. “If so, then do please keep in mind that I am rather short of time...”

“Time machine,” Donna said with a lift in her brow and a quirk in her lip.

Romana smiled at that. “That’s very true.” Her smile shifted slightly, and she regarded Donna somewhat affectionately. “The Doctor….” She let out a breath. “He’s an easy man to form affections for. I know, I’ve been in your place.” She exhaled. “His brother has that same magnetic charm.”

“I haven’t got any romantic _affections_ toward him,” Donna corrected with a crease of horror in her brow. “He’s very much the opposite of my _type_ of partner.” Her eyes did flare for just a moment. “But he _is_ my best friend…”

“I can see that,” Romana said with a warm smile. “And I’m thankful that he has that from you.” Her warm smile hardened somewhat. “But don’t let your affections toward him – even if they are only friendly over romantic – blind you to the man he is, which is bullheaded, tenacious, emotional, and even thoughtless. He doesn’t always think things through and acts rashly – _especially_ where the Master is concerned.”

“What has that got to go with you just letting him jump out of here like that?”

“Because believe it or not, that was actually the safest option for all of us.” 

“How?” she barked. “How can you call that the _safest_ option?”

“I can’t ask you to understand –”

“Don’t patronise me.”

Romana let out a full breath through parted lips. “Take my word that the Doctor will be fine. I wouldn’t worry about him.”

“Irving said he would go _splat_ , Romana,” she gasped out with incredulity. “ _Splat_ is not a very _he’s-going-to-be-fine_ term, you know.”

“Brax was just being irrational and emotional,” she replied flatly. “Despite how I feel about his actions this evening, he _did_ what he did with the salvation of his brother on his mind. The Doctor then decided to embark on an endeavour that makes Braxiatel’s actions completely pointless...” she sighed out hard. “I’m very sorry. Can we please pick this conversation up again at a later moment? We’ve materialised and I would really like to get into position to ensure that if the Doctor does survive this _splat_ thing you seem so hung up on, that he continues to live beyond that moment.”

“Again,” Donna barked out. “You’re not making me feel like he’s going to be okay.” Her voice softened to pleading. “I just need to know that the Doctor will be okay.”

“The Doctor will be fine,” she assured her as she walked toward the doors. “He is _always_ fine.”

“He’s really not,” Donna countered worriedly. “He’s very rarely ever _fine_.”

“I’m very glad that you are able to see that,” Romana admitted with a smile. “And that you don’t ignore it. He needs someone to know that about him, and who will watch over him.” She curled her fingers around the handle to her door and looked back to Donna. “Can I trust that you and your grandfather will remain on board my Capsule?”

Donna shrugged but didn’t answer.

“You’ll be safer in here than outside,” she warned. 

“Whatever,” Donna answered. “Go. Save the Doctor.”

“I’m quite sure he doesn’t need me to save him,” she said with a genuine smile. “But I’ll be there, just in case.” She nodded in farewell and then stepped out into the night.

Wilfred stepped to Donna’s side. “You have no intention of staying here, do you, Sweetheart?”

“None at all,” she admitted to him with a huff. “My best friend’s out there. I’m not staying here.” She turned to him. “But you will, right?”

“You’re my grand daughter walking onto the field of battle,” he said with a shake in his head. “I’m coming with you.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

The Master held up a large diamond in the sunlight streaming in from the large glass atrium above his head. There was a manic smile across his face as he admired the glint and glimmer of the light refracting from each carefully cut facet of the stone.

“Beautiful, isn’t it,” he remarked to a mirror-image of himself wearing a white labcoat. “A Whitepoint star, found on only one planet in the entire universe. Formed inside the base of the Southern mountains. Millions of years of heat and pressure. This stone has seen more of the turn of my planet than a hundred generations of my people have.”

His mirror looked at him with a similar smile. “And how that the star is yours, you can use it as a lifeline.”

“Oh yes,” he agreed. “This is going to be spectacular.” His face shifted to an expression of faux disappointment. “What an incredible shame that the Doctor won’t be here to see it.”

“We still need more power to complete the link,” his mirror pointed out. “Should I open up the nuclear bolt?”

“Please do,” the Master answered with a smile. “With that power, we should be able to travel the pathway and make that link we need to bring them here.” He held the diamond high with one hand into the sunlight. “You hear that Braxiatel, you damn think you know it all fool! You sacrificed your mate, for _what_? For nothing. You didn’t even put a dent in my plans.”

His mirror smirked. “The nuclear bolt is activating, Sir.”

“Perfect,” the Master purred out as he set the diamond into a nest of wires within a tall device in the centre of the room. He looked up at the skylight. “I’m here. It’s time to come home.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Irving Braxiatel remained deep in the shadows of the room. He stood at the lead of a group of fifteen red-suited and masked soldiers, each one of them pressed up tightly against walls and remaining as hidden as they could.

He growled at the Master’s taunting about his betrayal of Rose meaning absolutely nothing. His deep brown eyes narrowed to tight focus.

“Are all of your team fitted with perception filters?” he asked Hellequn at his side.

“They are, Sir,” she confirmed. “Standard operating procedure for perception filters to be worn and operational the moment our unit is activated.”

“Good,” he muttered. “They need to remain as well cloaked as possible. Koschei is clever, he can see through a perception filter.”

“He seems distracted enough,” Hellequn noted.

“The room is full of him though,” he warned her. “Theoretically any one of them should be able to see through the filters, and I don’t want to risk a single member of your unit being identified as non-human.” He felt a small wave of telepathic connection, a ghost of a feeling, from across the room and looked up.

Hellequn followed his eyes. “Lady Romana,” she breathed out thankfully. “That means the second team is in place.”

He nodded carefully, his eyes across the room and on his mate. He waited until she looked in his direction and gave him a nod to let him know they were ready. He smiled and held his hand in between his hearts. The smile fell when she looked away instead of returning the gesture.

“Your mate is disappointed with you,” Hellequn noted bravely.

“Thank you for that rather astute and in no way completely apparent observation,” he snarled facetiously under his breath. “I’ll thank you to keep any further remarks to yourself.”

“If it interferes with the effectiveness and safety of any of the unit members, Cardinal, I will be sure to mention it,” she warned him. 

“I would hope that you do,” he agreed softly. “But you can be assured that your Lady President and myself are more than capable of separating personal with business.”

“You had both better hope so,” she warned him. “Because these men and women are my responsibility.”

He gave her a nod to acknowledge her warning. “Remember. We act only as backup in case his Lord Doctor requires it, or if any of these peoples look to be in danger at the Master’s hand. Right now, he needs them. They’re safe enough.”

Their conversation ceased immediately as a bright light opened up to shine briliantly over them all. On both sides of the room, soldiers, Time Lords, and human Masters shielded their eyes with their forearms against the light.

“It’s begun,” Braxiatel warned darkly as tall figures emerged from within the light. “At arms, Rassilon’s arrived.”

Above them all a loud crash sounded. Glass exploded all around them as a figure fell hard to the marble floor in front of them. Braxiatel uncovered his eyes and saw the brown heap of his brother laid prone on the floor. He shifted to rush forward, only to be held back by the Commander.

“Cardinal. Don’t,” she warned. “You can’t let Rassilon see you.”

“But…”

“He can regenerate,” she ordered him. “You can’t lose council…”

~~oooOOOOooo~~

Oh by the Gods did that hurt. Any part of him that had suggested that leaping out of a TARDIS and falling through a glass roof was a good idea was now protesting the fact that he’d dared even listen to it in the first place. 

The Doctor let out a groan and gingerly tried to move his arm to retrieve the gun that had fallen from his fingers. He was able to curl his fingers around the handle in a light grip to pull it close to him, but as he tried to lift it, his grip failed. A pound felt like a tonne, and the small weapon became far too heavy for him to lift it. All he could do was to try to attempt to draw himself to his knees, an attempt that was in vain as the pain of his fall and the jarring of his bones made him fall again and yet again onto his belly.

“My Lord Doctor,” Rassilon crooned with a hint of pride in his voice as he stepped forward from the other Time Lords and ladies behind him. “My Lord Master.” He held his arms out beside him. “We are gathered for the end.”

The Doctor drew himself up painfully from the floor, pulling himself backward onto his knees. He held the gun in his hand and looked toward Rassilon. There was obvious pain in his voice. “Listen to me,” he half pleaded. “You can’t.”

Rassilon stood tall, his staff at his side, and almost broke a small smile as he looked toward the Master. “It is a fitting paradox that our salvation comes at the hands of our most infamous child.”

In any other moment, the Doctor may have taken offence to not being the most infamous, as he had most certainly tried to claim that title. Instead he let anger and warning into his voice. “Oh. He’s not saving you,” he corrected him. “Don’t you realise what he’s doing?”

Rassilon tilted his head to look at the Doctor, still struggling to rise up off his hands and knees. He then looked to the Master.

“Hey, no, hey!” the Master warned his old friend. He pressed his finger to his lips. “ _You_ hush.” He offered a smile to his Lord President, opening up his arms in presentation of what he’d done. “Look around you. I’ve transplanted myself into every single human being.” He grinned at his own work, and his own brilliant plan. His voice turned toward warning. “But who wants a mongrel little species like them, because now I can transplant myself into every single Time Lord.”

Rassilon’s eyes narrowed with disgust.

“Oh yes, Mr. President, _Sir_ ,” he continued to taunt. “Standing there all noble and resplendent and decrepit. Think of how much better you’re going to look.” He smirked. “As me.”

The Doctor let out a groan, still trying to draw himself to a stand but failing miserably. He hears the sound of Rassilon raising his metal gauntlet. “You fool,” he breathed under his breath with a look toward the Master. “You absolute fool. This is Rassilon. Do you honestly think you’d have any chance of power over him?”

The Master looked with panic toward Rassilon, his eyes wide with realisation. “Oh no,” he yelped out as he watched Rassilon’s gauntlet curl into a fist. Around him the hypnotic hold he had on the humans started to slip. “No, no, no. Don’t!” He looked first at his obedient gathering of humans and at their shaking shuddering faces and then back to Rassilon. “Stop it! You can’t do this. No, no, no!”

Rassilon smiled a self-righteous and selfish grin. He opened up his arms and stood as a deity in front of humans, freed of the Master’s hold and weakened for it. “On your knees mankind.” He laughed almost derisively at all of them when they obeyed without argument.

“That’s right,” he boomed out with victory. “Obey me, your new President. Lord over every single one of you.”

The Doctor scoffed. He still struggled to rise to his feet and instead looked along his aching shoulder toward Rassilon. “Don’t fool yourself into thinking that they’ll be taken so easily.” He forced a smile. “Humans aren’t as weak minded and obedient as you want to believe they are.”

“They were taken over by a single man,” Rassilon pointed out with a blank look down toward him. “An insane fool.”

“I may be insane,” the Master countered. “But I am still your saviour. I saved you. Don’t forget that.”

The ground started to shake violently underneath them all. A roaring sound came from above and Rassilon lifted his head to the now open skylight above them. “The approach begins,” he said with pride.

The Master’s face screwed up with question. “Approach of what?” he asked incredulously, not even looking toward where the Doctor was still trying to rise.

“Something is returning,” the Doctor spat out. He lifted his head to look up toward the Master. His eyes were dark and furious, his lip curled with disgust. “Don’t you ever listen?”

The Master looked down at him but said nothing.

“That was the prophecy,” he continued. “Not some _one,_ some _thing_.”

His eyes pinched and he gaped a moment unable to understand just now what the Doctor was talking about. He gave an airless cough and dipped his head down. “What? Some _what_?”

The Doctor looked at the ground and growled a long sound; one of both pain and anger. His head shot up again to glare toward the Master. “They’re not just bringing back the species,” he answered with a sneer. “It’s Gallifrey. Right here, right now.”

Both of their heads shot upward as the rumbling increased as a ghostly, burning planet of orange took over the sky.

“This planet is about to be completely knocked out of orbit,” he scolded him as the room began to empty of panicking people, all that remained were suited soldiers that stood silently at the very edges of the room. “Six billion innocent lives will be destroyed because of you.”

“Six billion insignificant lives,” the Master corrected him. “Innocent or not, these people are nothing. The universe won’t even feel their loss.” His eyes shifted back to Rassilon. “But the Time Lords. Well. We are significant, aren’t we? And we will rise up, victorious and powerful like we’ve never been before.”

“How can you think that?” the Doctor asked him, horrified by the words of his friend. “This is wrong. This is so wrong!”

The Master looked up to Rassilon with a smile and a light tic in his eye. “Remember, Lord President. I did this. I get the credit for this.” He petted the centre of his chest. “I’m on your side.”

“Master,” the Doctor pleaded. “You can’t do this.”

“But this is fantastic,” the Master said with a smile and a soft voice down toward his friend. “The Time Lords. Restored.” His eyes were pinched and his voice almost breathy. “No longer the last, Doctor. Don’t you get it?”

The Doctor finally drew himself to his knees. He sat up and swayed just a small amount with the rumbling of the floor below him. “You weren’t there in the final days of the war,” he said with a sneer. “You never saw what was born.” He looked toward Rassilon. “But if the Timelock’s now broken, then everything’s coming through, isn’t it? All of it.”

“What are you saying?” the Master asked worriedly.

“I’m talking about the Daleks,” the Doctor clarified. “Not just the Daleks, though. But the Skaro Degredations, the Horde of Travisties, the Nightmare Child, the Could-have-been King and his army of Meanwhiles and Never-weres.” His lip curled upward, his voice now hissing through his teeth. “The War turned into hell, and that’s what you’ve opened.” His hand shot upward to the shattered ceiling above them. “Right above Earth, Hell is descending.”

The Master actually smiled at that. “Well,” he purred. “That’s my kind of world.”

“You’re not listening to me,” the Doctor demanded of him. He was finally on his feet but swayed as he fought to remain upright. “Not even the Time Lords can survive that.” He threw his hand backward in a gesture toward Rassilon. “Even he knows that. Why do you think he moved Gallifrey across the cosmos? Because he knows that there is nothing they can do to defeat all that and survive.” He spun to face Rassilon. “Isn’t that right, _Lord_ _President_ ,” he seethed, putting as much condescension in the words as possible. “You knew there was no possible way that Gallifrey could survive, and so you ran. Took the whole planet and ran. Oh, but you can’t move an entire planet without drawing everything else along with it. Every single enemy on the surface brought along with you…”

“It gives us time,” he sneered in reply.

“For what?” the Master asked curiously. 

“To initiate the Final Sanction,” Rassilon answered plainly. “The end of time will come, and it will come at my hand.” Once again, he curled his gauntlet into a fist and held it in front of him in a show of power and victory. “This rupture will continue until it rips the Time Vortex apart.”

“That’s suicide,” the Master breathed out with horror finally dawning.

Rassilon laughed a booming sound. “We will ascend to become creatures of consciousness alone.” He looked toward the pair of them in the centre of the room, one of them furious the other eagerly curious. “We will be free of these bodies, free of time and cause and effect, while creation itself ceases to be.”

“For what purpose,” the Doctor snapped. “What can you possibly hope to achieve, what purpose is there to ruling over a barren universe…?”

“We recreate it in our vision,” he answered simply. “ _Think_ , Lord Doctor. The universe is full of cruel, detestable species with no purpose at all than to destroy each other. Nothing but a disease that needs to be eradicated.”

The Doctor took a step forward. “But there are so many planets out there full of brilliant, wonderful, amazing species of people. Innocent people who don’t deserve to be destroyed on your whim of what you think is a better universe.” 

“It needs to happen,” Rassilon growled. “For the Time Lords to survive and live on.”

He took a step forward and looked at him with disbelief. “And to do this you’d sacrifice our own planet. Our own peoples. You’d destroy them all for this?”

“A sacrifice each and every one of them will gladly make if it ensures our survival,” he answered him flatly.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” the Doctor replied coolly. “And if you think for a moment I’ll let you do this … “ He huffed a breath. “I’ve stopped you once before, Rassilon. I’ll stop you again.”

Rassilon pointed the gauntlet at him, one finger extended in a point. “You can’t defeat me,” he said with a laugh. “You can barely stand right now. What hope do you have of defeating me? You’re injured, Doctor.” He grit his teeth and fired a thin tendril of blue energy toward him. He laughed when the Doctor’s head was thrown back and a long loud cry erupted from his mouth.

The Doctor collapsed to his knees. His butt fell heavily onto his heels, and his chest arched out ahead of him. The cry that erupted was as much pain as it was strength and will to push past it. He forced himself to lean forward, forced himself to shift himself onto at least one foot. Still on one knee, he glared as best he could toward Rassilon. “I will stop you,” he warned him. “If I have to regenerate over and over to my last, I will stop you from doing this.” He held Wilf’s old revolver up toward Rassilon, but he faltered with a cry, and it clattered to the ground when Rassilon increased the flow of power from his gauntlet.

He laughed. “My Lord Doctor. What makes you think you can stop us. Stop all this from happening?” he asked with all the condescension he could manage. “You can’t even hold a pathetic earth gun to defend yourself. how can you possibly think you can defeat me?”

Braxiatel’s voice thundered in darkly from the shadows. “Really, Lord President,” he answered on his brother’s behalf. He strode in with all of the confidence that would be expected of the Cardinal entering a room. “Tormenting a Lord who doesn’t have the strength to defend himself? Hardly what I would expect from Gallifrey’s legendary warrior.”

“Cardinal Braxiatel,” Rassilon said with cheer. He dropped his gauntlet and straightened himself upward, looking down toward the man with a sneer along his nose. “This is a surprise.”

“It shouldn’t be,” he muttered with a sniff. He cast his gaze toward the Doctor, who was on his hands and knees, panting through the recovery of the blast. “Not a party I wanted to miss.”

Rassilon set his hand on his hip. “Ascend with us, Lord Braxiatel,” he boomed. “As should the favourite son of council. The only one not afraid to do what it takes to ensure the survival of our peoples.”

Braxiatel folded his arms across his chest. To his left, the Master growled, to his right, his brother moaned in pain. He looked between them both and then back to Rassilon. “Not afraid,” he agreed. “I’ll do what it takes to protect Gallifrey and her children, no matter the consequence.”

“Then as a last act,” Rassilon ordered. He pointed the top of the staff toward the Doctor. “Destroy him. Destroy your brother and ascend with us. As you should. As your destiny demands of you.”

The Master laughed. “Oh. Oh, this will be good.”

The Doctor looked up at his brother. There was as much desperation and pleading in his eyes as there was resignation. “Brax,” he pleaded softly with a shake in his head. “Don’t do this. It’s not right. It’s not worth it.”

“Shut up, Thete,” he growled through his teeth. 

The Master laughed. Rassilon did as well. “Yes, indeed. Shut up _Thete_.” The President cheered. “Go ahead, Cardinal. One last request from council. From your Lord President, and then we ascend together. The finest of all council members Rising to rule over all of creation.” He lowered his head to him. “This is what you’ve strived for your entire life. Every act. Every mission you’ve been sent on. Now is the time for you to claim your reward.”

Braxiatel gave a firm nod to the President. He strode quickly toward the Doctor and took hold of his tie and collar in one hand. With a grunt he pulled his brother up. Face to face, he growled against his nose. “Get up, Thete. On your feet. Now.”

The Doctor hung helplessly from his brother’s grasp. He did finally settle his feet on the ground, but made no effort at all to attempt to fight him off. He knew he didn’t have the strength to do it. “Do what you need to do, Brax,” he managed after a moment. “Rise. As you should. For all you’ve done. This is what you’ve always wanted, yeah? So do it.” His eyes dampened and his face looked pained. “For what it’s worth, brother. I do forgive you.”

~~oooOOOooo~~


	81. Huon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, back at Rose's house...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By request, we had back to the homestead to check on War-Thete and Rose...
> 
> This was another one of those tough writes. Tried to get a lil bit of explanation in here ... tried to resolve a wee bit of it. 
> 
> I'm not a doctor. Please keep that in mind when you head in here... I kind've make up stuff and hope it looks close to being right. So don't quote me on ANY of it ... Take none of my advice (not that I'm giving any, but you know what I mean)...
> 
> Now. Please, for the love of Gallifrey and all her children please don't get mad and snitty at the Doctor here (or with me for that matter). Please. Just. Please. I just had a flash of Nine for a moment and wanted to run with that. And quite frankly, I couldn't think of a faster way of doing what needed to be done... or kick that nasty stuff out of her.
> 
> That said, I hope you can enjoy this.

~~oooOOOooo~~

One again he found himself seated on the couch inside Lady Rose’s living room, running though several problems in his mind while also listening to Sarah Jane talking with him. He should have left Earth hours ago and return to the war raging across Kasterborous. He had a very specific task in mind for his return to Gallifrey. A task so absolutely horrific that would really make him no better than those blasted Dalek troops, but it was one that was necessary if the universe was to survive this war.

He could hear it talking in his mind; the weapon housed safely inside his TARDIS. The Moment, they called it. A weapon so powerful that the dormant hum of it could be felt throughout his battle-weary bones. He could hear the weapon’s tempting siren’s call even over the top of his ship’s pleading for him not to use it. So far his ship’s pleading was holding him firm within the centre of his indecision as to whether or not it should be used. While she stood in judgement of him even entertaining the notion of it, the Doctor was confident that he wouldn’t dust off the weapon and set it in the centre of Gallifrey to destroy everything, everyone, and end the war once and for all...

…Of course, seeing what he was seeing now: all of the terrified and displaced innocent people of Gallifrey, the wailing and injured fighting forces, the cavernous frozen room of the medical capsule, full to overflowing with Time Lords and Ladies held in stasis, their very last breath still held inside their chests and their hearts squeezed with their final contraction. He was teetering very close to disappointing his TARDIS and ending it all.

“What your brother and Romana have set up here is beyond magnificent,” Sarah Jane said after a few moments of mindless chatter. It was clear that she’d noticed that his mind was most definitely elsewhere, and as usual for the brilliant woman, she’d worked out just where his mind was seated.

“Yes,” he answered with a look toward her and a soft smile on his face. “he is quite brilliant, old Braxiatel. Combine his ability to roll up his sleeves and get any job done in as sly and sneaky a manner as possible with the unrivalled intelligence of Romana, they can be an unstoppable pair.”

“I can see that,” she admitted with a lift of awe in her brow. “How this set up remained undetected for as long as it has it impressive to say the least.”

“Our stealth technology is remarkable,” he agreed. “Though, I’ve never seen it utilised in a manner such as this.” He lifted his head to look toward the kitchen door. “The potential for use across the universe…”

“Could create more problems than it solves,” Sarah Jane cut in. She shifted in the seat. “There are always those who will exploit technology like that, Doctor. Do you think it’s worth the risk?”

“You’re right, of course,” he answered with a nod of his head. “And so the question must be asked if the risk of the technology being utilised for the more nefarious purpose outweighs the legitimate assistance it would provide to those who are truly in need.”

“Sadly, Doctor, I believe it does.”

“A shame,” he breathed. “Because I can think of many, many good uses for this. So many good things.” He turned in his seat after a moment, tilting the direction of his knees and body to better face her. “Tell me Sarah Jane. How long have you known about this setup? What can you tell me about it?”

“Not much,” she answered with a shrug in her shoulders. “I only found out about it about an hour before you did.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and gave him a small smile. “Of course, I did speak with a few of the people here to ask a few questions.”

“I would expect no less.”

She broke into a wide grin. “You know me well, don’t you?”

“I’d like to think so.” His look turned affectionate. “The inquiring mind of Sara Jane Smith will not be held down. All questions must be answered, all stones turned. So tell me, what did you find out?”

She nodded and kept a smaller smile in place that slowly shifted to a more expressionless tilt inside her lips as she spoke. “It was an initiative set forth here on Earth by Braxiatel and Romana almost a year ago when the war began in earnest on Gallifrey…”

“It came to Gallifrey centuries ago,” he remarked.

“Which is what I find so interesting about it, Doctor. And, oh, I wish I could get my hands on specific documents that would clarify it so much more clearly.” She pressed her elbow on the back of the couch and rested her temple on her fist. “From what I could gather, Braxiatel had set out very specific temporal coordinates to all rescue pilots to ensure that they could tighten the time frame on Earth to as little time as possible.” She moved her hands to motion a gesture indicating a funnel shape. “Hundreds of years on Gallifrey down to only a matter of months here on Earth.”

“Interesting.”

“This was planned and executed over the course of a week in Earth time, but took almost a century on Gallifrey to pull together the technology and resources to make it happen.”

“Meanwhile,” the Doctor noted, “with the resurrection of Rassilon, he had to maintain the guise of acting as Cardinal on council supporting sessions, votes, and meetings which demanded he work in the exact opposite direction that would best serve our people in the manner he’d orchestrated.” He turned and leaned back heavily against the couch cushions. He raised both hands to cradle the back of his head. “Brilliant.”

“He lived to very distinct and very different lives,” she remarked more to herself than to him. “How did he manage that without making any mistakes to collide the two?”

“Braxiatel is a remarkable man,” the Doctor noted. “A Time Lord whose hearts most definitely beat for Mother Gallifrey – so much so that he will do anything to protect the sometimes tenuous balance of our society.” He leaned his head heavier into the cradle of his hands to lower into a relaxed slouch. “He was drawn to council as he believed it would serve him best in being able to preserve and protect our planet.” He let out a sigh. “I suspect his illusion was shattered once an event of this magnitude arrived and threatened it all. He’s as sneaky as he is brilliant, and he loves the power that his office holds. A man like that can definitely live a double-life with no one the wiser to it.”

“And Romana?”

“That’s what impresses me most,” he admitted. “Romana is far too good and honest to pull off such a thing. I’m not entirely sure if it’s a good or bad thing that my brother was able to have such influence on her that she was able to do this so flawlessly.”

“Together they’re remarkable,” Sarah Jane surmised with a shrug. Her mouth twisted up into a smile and there was a wag in her brows. “And they are quite clearly very … ehm … _fond_ of each other .. if you know what I mean.”

“I do,” he huffed. “But I really don’t want to. So if you don’t mind, may we change subjects? I do find the topic of my brother’s love life with my former companion rather distasteful, to say the very least.”

“Of course we can,” she answered with a laugh. “We can talk about whatever else you want to discuss…” Her voice clipped off to a startled sound as a pair young medics burst into the room. One of them held a light stretcher, the other a scanning device. The young man with the device swept it around the air in front of him and spoke to his partner in clipped tones in the language of their people. “Can we help you?” she asked after a moment.

“Apology ma’am,” the young medic with the stretched said with a bow of apology. “But we have notification of an incoming patient. We are scanning for materialisation now.” 

“I thought patients arrived via capsule,” the Doctor stated as much as asked the pair. He pointed toward the back door. “And usually out there.”

“Unusual case,” the medic with the stretched answered, his partner far too focused on his scan to engage himself. “This one is being transported via Vortex Manipulator, not capsule. And while his Lord Cardinal is an extremely accurate capsule pilot, he’s not quite so accurate when programming a manipulator.” 

The Doctor shot up to a stand in a single and effortless movement. His expression shifted toward guardedness and concern. “Has there been an incident with Braxiatel?” he demanded. “Is he injured?”

The young man shook his head that was lifted high over his partners shoulder to monitor the scanner. “Two-part answer,” he began. “Yes, there was an incident with his Lord Cardinal. No, he is not injured…” he paused. “… _Yet_. It is our understanding that your elder incarnation is on route to his location right now and is less than impressed with him. That status is likely to change.”

“Any why might that be?” the Doctor asked with a pinch in one eye. “Why would you suggest that he may incur injury with my arrival?”

“Got it!” the second medic cheered. He pointed to the floor in the hallway just off the living room. “Set the stretcher down, she should materialise in three. Two. One.”

There was a flash of light, an electrical hum, and then the sound of a lifeless body thudding lightly on the tightly pulled orange canvas of the stretcher.

The Doctor’s eyes immediately locked on the figure that appeared with almost pin-point accuracy on the stretcher. It was obviously female, humanoid, but identification not so obvious as she’d materialised laid on her side. The two medics scrambled to roll her onto her back and secure her for the short transport to the medical capsule where he had no doubt a full team of medics were waiting her arrival.

His eyes flashed wide when he saw the familiar face of the young woman who had fled the home a little over an hour ago with his brother in a frantic chase behind her. “Lady Rose?” He questioned urgently as he shoved past the doorframe with a wave of his arm to get into the hallway. He heard Sarah Jane’s exclamation of shock behind him that mirrored his own. “Is that the Lady Rose?”

Both medics ignored the Doctor and Sarah Jane and looked toward each other from either end of the length of the stretcher. Their eyes and soft count in Gallifreyan brought them into synch, and with very little effort they picked up the stretcher. They didn’t ask the Doctor nor Sarah Jane to move out of their way in any polite terms, instead they urgently shoved past them and toward the kitchen door that was held open by one of the female nursing staff members.

“They’re waiting with a free gurney near the bio scanner,” she advised them sternly as she ran a scanner over Rose’s face and chest. “Elevated cardiac and respiratory rates,” she announced. “Oxygen saturation is well below acceptable levels, heart rate at one-thirty. Lindos levels are through the roof. I’ve never seen numbers like this!” She pointed toward a male in orange scrubs and held her hand on Rose’s chest as she was hurriedly lifted from the stretcher to the gurney. “Alamarra, we need a tank and mask, immediately. Lady Rose is hypoxemic. We need to get her oxygen levels back up”

A man wearing the Heliotrope scrubs of the Patrexan order fixed a matching mask over his mouth and nose and strode toward the gurney. He took a look at the young woman laid out on the gurney and the short rapid breaths she drew. Each exhale blew out a puff of glittering amber.

“Oh Hell,” he muttered as he swiftly threaded his fingers into the buttoned join of Roses shirt. With a grunt he pulled his hands outward, tearing open the shirt and spraying a half dozen resin buttons onto the floor. He did the same to the thin camisole she wore underneath, exposing Rose’s chest and a plain cotton bra to his team. Immediately one of the nurses moved in to stick several small sticky nodule patches “Made sure the cardiac monitor is properly calibrated to a human, will you Lady Glasmir?”

“Already done, Lord Phiroi,” she answered. She turned to the machine and moved her nitrile gloved fingers across the keyboard. The machine lit up to life, beeping out a rapid series of sounds. She silenced the alarm that sounded in warning, and turned back to the doctor to wait his next instructions. “Heart rate is elevated, Sir, and doesn’t look to be coming down.”

He fixed an oxygen cup over Rose’s mouth and gently lifted her head to curl the elastic strap behind her head. “If we can normalise the oxygen levels then her heart should return to a more reasonable rate,” he said calmly. “I’ll perform a few scans to see if she’s suffered any further injury we can’t see. Keep an eye on her levels and let me know if it gets any worse.”

The Doctor, who had remained just slightly out of range of being a pain in the arse to the medical technicians, finally took a step forward to put himself at Rose’s side. “What happened to her?” he asked flatly as he let his eyes scan over every inch of her. There seemed to be no immediately recognisable signs of deep injury or internal bleeding.

“That’s what we’re trying to determine, Lord Doctor,” Phiror answered him. “Stabilisation right now is my main focus.”

“Is she not stable?”

“Well, she’s not getting any worse,” he said flatly. “In our experience, that’s as good as being stable.” He looked up as a technician silently approached with a handful of small leads attached to a device that resembled a motorcycle helmet that had the back side of it missing. “Good man, Sundri.” He reached forward and placed the helmet over the top of Rose’s head. “Let’s figure out what’s going on in that beautiful human brain of yours,” he said to her before his eyes lifted to Sundri. “Getting a reading yet?”

“Scanner’s calibrating now, Lord Phiroi,” he answered. “Might need a minute.”

The Doctor’s eyes were on the helmet covering Rose’s head. They then trailed to the clear oxygen cup over her mouth. He frowned at the breaths of amber that kept escaping her lips. He expected that the cup should mist over with condensation from the moist breath of a human, but in this case it wasn’t. All he saw was glittering amber that she was drawing in and out in very rapid succession.

“This isn’t right,” he remarked under his breath. “Is she expelling Lindos?”

Lord Phiroi looked to the Doctor with patience in his ancient eyes. “If you wouldn’t mind, Lord Doctor, and with all respect due to you. My team and I need to perform more scans and examinations on her Lady Rose. This would be much easier if you weren’t standing around asking questions.”

“Is that your polite way of asking me to leave?” he queried with a lift of his brow. 

“Indeed,” he answered with a smile and a light tip of a bow in his head. “Once we have some more definitive answers for you, then with the permission of the Cardinal, I’ll share them with you.”

The Doctor took a start from that. “I’m sorry, did you say that I require permission from the Cardinal in order to get answers about her condition?”

“That’s correct, Sir,” he answered. “The Lord Cardinal stands as Lady Rose’s guardian, and therefore any and all decisions toward her care and wellbeing must go through him.”

His brows pinched and his eyes narrowed. “You are aware that I stand as this young lady’s mate.”

Lord Phiroi gave him a look of doubt and shook his head. “The fact that you refer to her as _this young lady_ doesn’t lend you much credit on that, Sir. In my experience, Mates do tend to be a little more, how should I say … _enthusiastic_ … when it comes to their mate in peril.”

“Would you prefer that I leap around like a panicked fool, buzzing around your head and your team like flutterwings during mating season to make your task that much more difficult?” he asked flatly. His head then dipped with perfect condescension. “A state that I’m quite sure won’t serve any of us well in ensuring her care.” 

“If you are capable of staying out of our way,” Phiroi suggested flatly. “Then I’ll allow it. Just, please, let us do our jobs without interference. I do understand that you call yourself _The_ Doctor, but here we _are_ doctors.”

The Doctor seemed mildly on board with that, and despite wanting to argue with the fellow on his credentials as an actual doctor – of which he had very many doctorates – he remained silent. He merely took Rose’s hand in his and watched the movements of the medical teams around him.

His eyes lifted to the monitor scanning her brainwaves. It let off random bleeps that indicated that it was online and scanning, but the results showed no real activity. He turned to face the machine directly, monitoring each and every single little sharp rise and dip on the monitor. If he wasn’t mistaken – and quite frankly he rarely was - the brainwaves the scanner was picking up were in no way indicative of a human mind in an unconscious or comatose state. The waves were far more appropriate for a Gallifreyan mind in a restorative state.

He flicked his eyes to the doctor. “Lord Phiroi. This may seem to be a rather odd observation on my part, but it does appear that her Lady Rose has fallen into a restorative coma.”

“Yes,” he drawled. “It certainly does appear that way, doesn’t it?”

“ _Appears_?” he asked with slight annoyance in his tone. “Or has?” He waited less than a heartsbeat for a response from the doctor. When there was no immediate remark, the Doctor brushed him off completely. “Never mind, I’ll check for myself.”

“Lord Doctor…”

“I said _I’ll check her over_ ,” he repeated more firmly. “If you have a problem with me assessing her on my own now that she seems stable, then reach out to my brother and ask his permission.” He looked back to Rose. “I’m quite sure he’ll allow it.”

He stood up tall and leaned over the prone form of the women who was supposedly his mate when he was a much younger and more attractive man. He set one hand on the mattress to her side and dipped the other hand into his jacket pocket to remove his sonic screwdriver. He flicked at the settings with his thumb and watched her underneath him. Her condition was curious and alarming. Despite the team’s efforts, she still panted with a series of short rapids breaths. Her chest shifted with each breath, but barely rose sufficiently to suggest she was taking anywhere near enough air with each breath.

He pressed the tip of the sonic into her forehead and activated the scan. He drew it along her centre plane, along the centre of the mask that covered her mouth, over her chin and throat and then down toward her navel. 

“Lord Doctor,” Phiroi interrupted as the Doctor looked at his device to check the readings. “We really do need to perform a few more tests, if you wouldn’t mind please stepping back.”

“No,” he answered shortly, his expression hardening somewhat at what he was seeing. “There will be no further tests.”

“But, Sir..”

“No!” he repeated sharply. “Anything further will be performed by me and me alone.” His eyes lifted darkly. “These readings are very unsettling to me. They are not normal readings for a Time Lord, let alone a human. I don’t know what you’ve done to her; what you and my brother have allowed her to be exposed to to show saturation and reading levels like this. So for now, and until I am satisfied that she’s in no further danger, you _will_ step away.”

He looked quite offended and even horrified by the accusation. “We would never –“

“Lord Phiroi,” another medic cut in. “Pardon the interruption, but his Lord Cardinal is on the phone and wishes to enquire as to the well being of Lady Rose. I’d ask him to contact us later, but he’s quite insistent.”

“I’ll take the call,” he gruffed out with annoyance. He pulled off his mask and scowled toward the Doctor. “I can assure you that we all hold our Lady Rose in the highest of regard. Any exposure levels, or unusual readings you see are not in any way a deliberate act from anyone here.” He tossed the mask onto Rose’s feet and snatched the phone from the other medic. “If anything, Sir, we’ve tried to minimise and counteract any exposure as best we can – _at_ your brother’s insistence.”

“Perhaps installing a medical facility for Time Lord soldiers in the home of a human was a thoughtless and ill-thought out plan,” he shot back angrily. “They aren’t biologically able to withstand repeated exposures to the ills of our people.”

His eyes narrowed with displeasure as Phiroi walked way, the phone against his ear. Once he was sure that the Lord wouldn’t return in a hurry, he softened his expression and looked down at Rose once more. The readings from his sonic had been alarming to say the least. And they’d also been unbelievable. What his scanner had picked up were not only odd, but should have been near impossible. One enzyme specifically stood out amongst the trio of energies detected. To the best of his knowledge, it existed in only one place in the entire universe – and that was held in one place that there is no way she’d be able to access.

“Is she okay?” Sarah Jane asked quietly. She’d appeared at his side once he’d been granted permission to remain with Rose. She assumed that if the Doctor was allowed to stand by, then she was also … if by default. She’d remained quiet and almost invisible, a trait she’d honed from years as an investigative journalist sneaking in and out of hot spots and dark corners. 

“I’m not entirely sure,” he admitted with a crease in his brow. “And as you well know, Sarah Jane: I’m not a happy person if I don’t know something – especially when it’s something I want to know.”

“Should you move her into the TARDIS?” she queried. “Perhaps…”

“No,” he snapped sharply. He quelled that sharpness realising he’d been rude. Rather than apologise, however, he merely lessened the sharpness of his tone. “I don’t know that she’d be any safer in there than out here.”

“Then what?” she asked worriedly. “If the TARDIS isn’t safe…?”

He gently lifted the helmet from her head and set it above her pillow. He took the same tender care when he lifted her head to pull the elastic strap of the oxygen cup from her face. That, he set off to one side. He leaned his forearms down either side of her head, curled his hands around her hair to touch his fingers together, and lowered his face to hers. With his nose near her mouth, he inhaled as she exhaled glittering breaths still rapid and shallow. His face was awash with amber as she peppered his face with her breaths and he drew it in through his nose with deep inhales that he held, analysed, and then expelled softly with a turn of his head to one side. His own breaths glittered out of him.

“Lindos,” he said quietly to himself. “Artron…”

“That agent was used to counteract the Lindos saturation,” the nurse offered him helpfully. “The Cardinal and the doctors felt it was the most reliable method. It’s what contains a regeneration inside a capsule.”

He remained in his almost protective stoop over his patient but looked up at the nurse. “It is a known suppressor,” he agreed. “But only in very precise doses.”

“1.1mg dose every 14 days,” she said. “Injected into her deltoid muscle. No more, no less.”

“That should have held it back,” he said with a huff. “If it weren’t for her huon exposure.” He tapped his fingertips together, still on the mattress atop of Rose’s head. “And where she was able to find huon even in a small dose is curious enough…”

“It no longer exists,” the nurse stated with shock. “Long ago extinct after the war with the Racnoss. We, the Time Lords, we eradicated from all reaches of the universe.”

“Not entirely,” he breathed out. “There is still a source of it.”

Her eyes widened with worry. “Where?”

“My TARDIS,” he answered plainly. “The oldest TARDIS in the universe, she still contains huon. A small amount of it, of course, in her heart, but it does exist.” He looked down into Rose’s face. Her colour was still bright and clear through her pallor, which gave him hope that she would recover well enough. “How did you draw that into you, hmmm?”

Sarah Jane worried at his side. “Is it dangerous, Doctor?”

“Very,” the nurse answered for him. “Safe levels are still relatively unknown within our own peoples, and it’s questionable if there even is a safe amount for non-Gallifreyans.” She looked to the Doctor. “I’m sorry, Sir. Had we known, then we would have created another plan to limit exposure. But it’s not something we test for anymore.”

“I can remove it,” he suggested softly. “Take it inside myself instead. I’ve travelled in my TARDIS enough that I’ve got good tolerance for huon by now.” He smiled down at her. “Or maybe it’ll make me regenerate. It’s about time for a new me, don’t you think. This body’s getting so, so old now.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Sarah Jane said to him quietly. “I don’t ever want to hear you talk like that.”

“Death comes to us all, Sarah Jane,” he admitted without looking at her. “And I’ve already been inside this body for more time than any body before it.”

“I still don’t want to hear you say that,” she shot back almost angrily. “If this isn’t safe for you, then find another way.”

“I’m perfectly safe,” he assured her. “Don’t you worry about me. I’ll still be wearing this old face for a little while yet.” 

“Promise me that.”

“I’m here until the end of the war,” he assured her. “Will that promise suffice for now?”

She nodded. “So. You can help her, then?” She gestured toward Rose. 

He nodded. “I can. Of course, I’ll have to do it via a rather unorthodox method. I will ask you not to judge or vilify me for this Sarah Jane. This is the only way to draw it from her safely and not release it back into the air and affect you all.” 

“Do what you have to.”

He lowered his face to Rose, lowering himself enough that their noses touched. “Now,” he assured the unconscious woman. “I apologise to you for this intrusion, dear, but there's really no other way that will keep everyone here safe.” He curled his arms around her head to cocoon her within his embrace. “I hope you can forgive me,” he breathed gently and then closed the gap between their lips.

It was a tender press. A gentle and almost unfelt touch of their lips. He felt the tingle of her awareness inside his mind, and a slight movement as her senses caught up with what was happening. As he drew free the power from her the breaths through her nose, rapid and shallow, started to lengthen and deepen. She seemed to relax into him and so he let the tension shift out of his shoulders. As soon as he started to relax within it, however, Rose’s eyes suddenly flashed open. Her eyes were as bright as her breaths and in a moment her chest arched off the bed. He held her head firm in his arms even as he felt the whip of her bond try and separate them. Her mouth gaped and drew his open with hers. With a contraction that expelled a cough of pure energy into his mouth, the Doctor gulped it down and tore his mouth from hers.

Rose’s eyes dimmed of energy and looked at him with wide eyes of question and confusion. “Doctor?” she managed out before her eyes closed and her head tiled off to one side.

He straightened up and covered his mouth in one hand. “She. She should be good now,” he spoke through his palm. “I think I got it all…” 

Sarah Jane noticed his pallor, and the slightly green shade he was taking on. “Doctor?” she asked worriedly as she put her hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”

He gulped down a very thick swallow, too a deep breath and shook his head. “Pardon me,” he said through his palm, then turned and fled the room. His hand still covered his mouth as he ran though the hallway toward the front door. He didn’t know if it opened on its own or if he had actually managed to unlock it himself, but within only a few moments of leaving the medical capsule he was in the front garden of Rose’s home. He looked left, then right, and then dropped to his knees just off the front path to retch painfully over a spray of blooms that had been tenderly planted in her garden. Heave after heave until his stomach was emptied completely. He wiped at his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket and then coughed one more time to make sure that he was clear of the trifecta of poisons he’d drawn from Rose. He got all of the Huon, of that he was sure, he wasn’t going to pull away from her until he wasn’t drawing any more of the power from her. But she was still heavily saturated with Lindos. Not much he could do about that, but with a continued course of Artron to counteract the worst of it, she’d do perfectly well with it.

He rocked back onto his knees, settling his backside onto his heels, and tried to centre himself enough to be able to stand up. Once Braxiatel returned from whatever it was he was up to right now, he intended on having quite a discussion with him. 

He rose to his feet and stumbled suddenly, feeling as though the world was moving under his feet. He thrust a hand out to the wall to steady himself and looked upward as a shadow moved quickly across the home. His jaw dropped wide and his eyes flared wide with absolute horror.

What was Gallifrey doing in the sky over London?

~~oooOOOooo~~


	82. Sending them into Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite their differences, the Doctor and Brax work together to try and send the Time Lords back home.
> 
> Brax learns the hard way that treason and betrayals don't end well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah! I totally messed up my stride and had a tough time getting this one to flow in any respectable way.
> 
> Didn't have too much time, but had a lot to try and get through... I really and truly hope this flows okay.
> 
> I'm really not at all sure about how this will be received, as there is some really unpleasantness in this chapter. Call it Brax!Whump if you want to... (did I get that right? do I need to hashtag it or something? not real good at the tag things...) Anyway, consider that a warning, yeah? 
> 
> Anyway, I do hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm rather happy to be past this bit... Really happy to be past this bit....

~~oooOOOooo~~

“ _I do forgive you_.”

Braxiatel felt a shift of something painful in his chest to hear his brother say that to him. Okay, there were some strained tensions between them right now, and his brother was angry with him. He also understood that he held a reputation of unquestionably answering to the whims of council … but did Thete truly believe that he’d be capable of killing him at Rassilon’s order?

He tightened the fist he held at the Doctor’s throat and pulled him close.

“By the Gods you’re pathetic sometimes,” Braxiatel sneered at him in a low, quiet voice willed with both disgust and disappointment. “How do you think so little of me to believe I could actually do such a thing to you? To my own brother...” 

“I don’t know what to believe about you anymore,” the Doctor breathed out. “I don’t know that I ever really did.” He looked at the gun. “So go ahead. Do as Rassilon orders and destroy me. Ascend with the rest of them to rule over _nothing_.”

He tugged in the Doctor’s collar, drawing him close enough that he could hiss into his ear. “Despite what you may think of me, I’m not a monster.” He kept the Doctor’s collar in his hand and lifted the other arm to hold his gun pointed upward. “At least not like them.” He cocked the weapon with a loud click that echoed in the room. To the surprise the Doctor, Braxiatel didn’t point the gun at him. Instead he stretched his arm out to aim it toward Rassilon. 

“What’re you doing?” the Doctor hissed through his teeth when Braxiatel shifted his head to look down his arm toward their Lord President. “This is suicide.”

“Well, if it’ll give you time to work out how to stop this to save both Earth and Gallifrey…” He breathed out with a hiss matching his brother’s. He drew in a deep breath and focused his stare along his arm. “Then it’s worth it.”

“What are you doing, Cardinal?” Rassilon demanded hotly. “I gave you a direct order, you need to follow that order and destroy him.”

Braxiatel released the Doctor with a hard shove and turned to properly face Rassilon. He lowered the gun with a slow arm movement to let it hang in his fingers at his hip. He shifted to stand at his brother’s side. “Tempting though it is at times. And admittedly there are times when that temptation is far too great.” He flicked a quick look toward the Doctor and then back to Rassilon. “No. I’m afraid that I won’t do that.” He lifted his chin with arrogance. “To this fool’s plan of yours, however…” He smirked only on one side of his mouth. “Well. I can’t let you do that, either.”

“This is a mistake,” Rassilon warned him darkly. He stepped down from the light, down a pair of steps and made his way toward Briaxiatel, who had marched forward a few steps himself as though to greet him half way. They met in the centre of the room. Two tall and proud men with their chins high and indignant arrogance saturating their postures. “You betray your Lord President…”

“You’re not the first one I’ve done that too, Lord Rassilon,” he gruffed out with a sniff. “Built my reputation on that, haven’t I?”

Rassilon sneered into his face. His voice was a low timbre of warning and threat. “But I will be the last.”

Braxiatel heard the metallic scrape of metal along polished tile, and he knew that his brother was retrieving his weapon. The light rattle of old construction and the click of a revolving chamber confirmed that. “Do what you have to,” he challenged Rassilon. “I’m one man. One very insignificant one at that.” He sniffed. “Kill me, and more will take my place.”

“I’ll take that chance,” he boomed with a growl as he thrust forward his gauntlet and struck Braxiatel in the centre of his chest. He laughed at the pained sound that escaped Braxiatel’s throat and curled the gauntlet around the front of his Oxford to haul him high up off the ground. “And you are correct, Irving Braxiatel: the bastard son of Ulysses, and _abomination_ from the loom of Lungbarrow. You are insignificant, as are all of the pathetic creatures that full up the darkest pockets of the universe.”

The Doctor rushed forward, his gun held upward at Rassilon. He hollered out his brother’s name and a demand for Rassilon to leave him alone. An arm across his chest halted him from reaching the pair.

“He’s getting what’s been coming to him for a long time, Doctor,” the Master said with an almost victorious sneer. “I’ve been waiting for this. Half of Kasterborous have been waiting for this. Go ahead and destroy him, Lord President!”

“Let me go,” the Doctor ordered sharply through teeth exposed by a curl in his lip. “Rassilon, don’t do this. Kill me if you want but leave him alone.”

“Thete,” Braxiatel grit out. “You’ve got bigger things to worry about than me. Go get to it!”

“Awwww. How sweet,” Rassilon purred condescendingly with a look toward the Doctor being held back by the Master. He looked back at Braxiatel and kept his eyes on him to ignore the scuffle happening beyond. “Your time ends now.”

“Do your worst,” Braxiatel challenged. 

Rassilon chuckled through his nose into Braxiatel’s face. “Which isn’t to kill you,” he remarked. Then his eyes rolled and he corrected himself. “Well. Ultimately it will be to kill you, but not before I strip everything from you. All that you are. All that you’ve tried to be. For now, Braxiatel, you are no longer Cardinal. No longer Time Lord. You shall be exiled from Gallifrey, never to return to the home you’d give your lives for.”

“I may as well be dead,” Braxiatel breathed out.

“Which is why you’ll live,” Rassilon whispered against his ear. He shoved the top of his staff into Braxiatel’s belly and released the hold he had on his oxford. With a flash of brilliant blue from the staff, Braxiatel was propelled backward through the air with a perfect arch in his back and his arms and legs straightened out in front of him. His open mouth left a contrail of golden energy in his wake that immediately dissipated into nothing when he collided hard with the ground.

“Best you embrace that human part of you,” Rassilon boomed with a victorious laugh. “Because you’re one of them now.”

The Doctor pulled out of the Master’s grasp and rushed to his brother’s side. He fell onto his knees and tried to assist Braxiatel in lifting up onto his hip. He looked to Rassilon. “What did you do? What did you do to him?”

Braxiatel swatted him off. “By the Gods, Thete. Forget about me. Did you figure out what you needed to do.”

“Kind’ve distracted right now,” he snapped in reply.

Braxiatel grabbed his tie and pulled him down. “Do what needs to be done, Thete. Send them back to Hell.” He shoved him off him and managed to haul himself up onto his feet. He stood in a contracted slouch, one arm held across his belly. With a last look to his brother, and then to Rassilon, he turned and fled into the darkness of the room behind them.

“Always a coward,” Rassilon said with a laugh. He glared toward where the Doctor was still on his knees beside where Braxiatel had been thrown. “Typical of the Lungbarrow stock. Cowards, the lot of you.”

The Doctor slowly drew himself up to a stand. He held his head low and let his shoulders heave as he drew in deep breaths of calm. “Cowards,” he began slowly. “You’d certainly know a thing or two about that, wouldn’t you, _Lord President_?” He lifted his head with a deliberately slow movement. His lips stretched into a smile. “Your own actions here are no short of cowardice. Look at you, really. Take a good look at what you’re doing.” He waved his hand in a sweep around him, the gun in his hand flopping awkwardly from his fingers. “Taking control of a class three planet of peoples who’ve barely even crawled out of the swamp. Who have no way at all of defending themselves from something like this.”

“Your basic, insignificant bit of collateral damage,” Rassilon said with a sniff and an arrogant upward tilt of his chin. “For the greater good of the universe.”

“Is that what you think?” he asked him with wide eyes and brows held high with what appeared to be genuine interest in the answer. That expression quickly shifted to neutrality and then disdain. “Are you _truly_ that arrogant.”

The Master snorted with amusement behind him. “You need to ask?”

“Well,” the Doctor drawled with a heavy roll in his eyes and shoulders. “Of course, Koschei. Of course I know the answer to what was supposed to be a rhetorical question. I was _trying_ for facetiousness there, so do you mind?” 

The Master just shrugged.

“So tell me, Lord Doctor,” Rassilon challenged. “What do you intend on doing about it? Time’s ticking. Tick, tick, tick. In moments this planet will be destroyed and we will have the power we need from its destruction to initiate the Ultimate Sanction to rise above all.”

The Doctor slowly lifted the gun. It was held lazily at almost an angle, but the muzzle of it was pointed in the direction of the Time Lord President. “I will stop you. I will save this planet and all of the six billion lives here. Is that okay with you?”

“You truly don’t know how to choose your enemies in a wise manner, do you, Doctor?” Rassilon sniffed with a curl in his lip. “We are many. He is only one.”

The Master sniffed with urging behind him. “Don’t listen to him, Doctor. You do it. You kill our Lord President and stop his ascension.” His voice turned to a breathy purr. “Just think. With Rassilon gone, Gallifrey can be yours.”

Rassilon lowered his staff to point it toward the Doctor. “Can you really pull the trigger on that weapon, Doctor?” he said with a derisive snort. “Are you truly capable of taking another’s life.”

“You’d be surprised what I’m capable of when I’m backed into a corner,” he answered darkly. “You ask me about being wise when choosing an enemy, Rassilon. Just remember, you are one. This planet and Gallifrey are filled with many.”

“Who would possibly stand with you and go against me?” Rassilon said with a booming laugh. “Who on Gallifrey would stand against me: the mighty Rassilon, their Lord President and the one who will take them to victory.”

At the rear of the Doctor, a full troop of elite Gallifreyan soldiers filed into the room. Each of them walked with their weapons held at aim. Large barreled firearms capable of ripping through the Dalekanium shells of their Dalek enemies with a single pull of the trigger. Weapons more than capable of not only dropping a Time Lord in his place but also removing every single remaining regeneration in one fell swoop.

In the lead of them all Braxiatel walked a gingered and obviously injured gait. He held his weapon with both hands held down in front of him. His firearm was not nearly as large as any of the weapons wielded by the soldiers, but it was by no means an insignificant gun. 

“What is this?” Rassilon barked out angrily. “What is the meaning of this?”

Braxiatel clicked in a breath through his teeth, his nose lifting with a sign of pain as he drew up his gun. He held it with both hands up at his eye, carefully aiming it toward Rassilon. “These are those who will stand with the Doctor,” he answered tightly. “Those who stand against you. Soldiers who have drawn arms and fought the last five hundred years for the salvation of Gallifrey.”

“This is treason!” Rassilon demanded. He lifted his gauntlet and curled it into a fist. “I will destroy all of you.”

The Doctor stepped up beside his brother. His weapon was now hung limp and felt very heavy at his side. “Brax, are you…?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Braxiatel snarled impatiently. “Have you figured it out yet? How to end this? Because we’re out of time and I don’t think killing this fool is going to stop what he’s begun here.”

He gave a firm nod. “Yeah,” he drawled with a quick sound. “I think so.”

“Then do it,” he demanded. “Let us deal with his honourable presidential red-robed idiot. We can hold him back so you can do what you have to do.”

The Doctor looked toward Rassilon. Braxiatel was wrong. The Time Lord President was definitely part of the link that was drawing Gallifrey out of the war and on a collision course with Earth. Killing him would definitely sever the link and send Gallifrey back into the Hell it came from. 

But he wasn’t a killer. How could he even begin to justify…?

Behind the shoulder of the Lord President, were two people that stood in shame, their hands covering their faces to mark the shame of whatever misdeed they had committed against Rassilon and the council. One female, the other male, both of them slowly drew their hands from their faces to gaze upon Braxiatel and the Doctor with sadness in their eyes.

“Mother,” the Doctor breathed in a barely audible voice.

“Father,” Braxiatel remarked just as quietly. “By the Gods, Thete. He got both of them.”

They both flinched to launch forward but were held in place by a sharp and singular flick of their mother’s head. A widening in her eyes demanding that they leave them exactly where they were. There was to be no heroic rescue of either of them.

The sadness within the postures of both parents then shifted into pride at their two sons working side by side to fight off the evil that threatened Gallifrey. Ulysses, in a body that looked to be beyond the halfway point of age straightened up his back and looked at his two boys. He gave a nod of his head, his permission to end it, and to send them all back across the cosmos.

“Do it,” Braxiatel croaked out, the hold of his weapon faltering as be battled to not go against his father’s wishes. “And for the sake of us all do it quickly.”

The Doctor swallowed, drew in a deep breath, and then spun on his heel. He lifted the gun and held it at aim on the Master. His eyes were hard and beyond furious. He had the expression of a man in the grip of the most intense heartbreak, but despite this, his aim was steady and his breathing calm.

“It’s me, isn’t it?” the Master asked with resignation in his voice. “I get it. Take me out and the link is severed. Gallifrey goes back to Kasterborous, back into the war.” He inhaled and gave the Doctor a nod. “Do it.” He said flatly. His voice then rose to a level full of hot demand. “Well? Go ahead, Doctor. Do it.”

“Get out of my way,” the Doctor growled instead of pulling the trigger.

The Master looked over his shoulder, at the diamond on top of the transmitter. He then looked back to the Doctor, dipped his legs, and leapt out of the way with a dramatic dive to one side. The Doctor grit his teeth and pulled the trigger. His arm and shoulder pulled back with the heavy recoil of an almost antique weapon, and then be curled away to shield himself from the white hot blast of the transmitter exploding.

He spun quickly to face the Time Lords, hoping beyond all hope that it was enough, and done in time to suck them all back into Kasterborous. He exhaled in relief to see the portal begin to close and the red-robed bodies of the Time Lords began to pull away.

“The link is broken,” he declared darkly. “Back into the Time War, Rassilon. Back into Hell!”

Rassilon held out his gauntlet toward the brothers. “You’ll die with me, Doctor. You _and_ your brother.”

“Yeah,” he drawled with a nod of his head. He’d expected this much at least. One didn’t tangle with the mighty Rassilon and live to talk about it. “I know.”

“Would it be too cheesy for me to mark my last words as being: I’m not all that unhappy that you’re my brother?” Braxiatel muttered.

“You’re in my hearts too,” he answered with a huff as he clenched his fists and grit his teeth in wait for the death blow to strike them both. “At least our last act is something we do together, yeah?”

“Okay, that’s enough...”

A hot voice of pure fury snarled out from behind the two of them. “Get out of the way,” the Master bellowed as he forced himself through the gap in between the Doctor and Braxiatel. He pulled his hand in a fist from behind him and thrust it forward, opening his fist and firing a bolt of power from his hand.

Braxiatel staggered off to one side, his eyes wide with shock. “What in the blazes?”

“You did this to me,” the Master accused Rassilon as he rushed forward throwing bolt after bolt, one hand and then the other, into the chest of the Time Lord leader. “All My life. You _made_ me!”

Rassilon fell to a knee, his back arched and his head drawn back as he yelled against the Master’s onslaught. As the Master continued to attack, he laughed a maniacal sound of pure insanity. “Die, Rassilon. Die!”

As the Time Lords disappeared into the distance and the portal closed off, Braxiatel finally dropped his gun to his side. He swayed in place slightly, his face set into a wince of total discomfort. He looked to the Soldier closest to the window. “Confirm it’s gone, Soldier,” he ordered with thought a wince. “Tell me Gallifrey’s been sent back to Kasterborous.”

The Soldier looked out of the window, his eyes high in the sky. “Gallifrey’s dematerialising, Sir.”

“Oh thank the stars,” he breathed out. He flopped forward, his hand on his tight to support himself. 

The Doctor looked around the room, and at the soldiers who stood in his defense against Rassilon. His brows were pinched and his hearts heavy. “Thank you,” he said gratefully to them all. Having never thought he’d see any member of his species ever again, it was as lifting for him as it was demoralising to see his fellow soldiers … men and women that would be obliterated completely from the universe in only a day or so…

…at his hand no less. 

“Lord Doctor,” Hellequn spoke with a firm voice. “It was our honour.” Her eyes shifted to Braxiatel. “Lord Cardinal…”

He held up his hand and gave his head a shake. “No longer Cardinal, Commander.” He straightened up with a wince and held his hands on his hips, curling his fingers around his ribs. His voice quietened to a whisper of worried acceptance. “Not even Time Lord anymore.”

The Doctor spared him a glance. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Braxiatel answered quickly. “It’s really not important.”

A knocking sound caught the attention of both Braxiatel and the Doctor, and they both looked across to the Vinvocci glass booth. Inside one side of the partitioned booth, both Donna and Wilf stood.

“Oh no,” The Doctor breathed out worriedly. He walked slowly toward the booth, his brother at his side.

“They gone then,” Wilf asked, his voice somewhat muffled behind the glass. “Me and Donna safe?”

“Yeah, might be nice to let us out now,” Donna called. The shake in her voice indicated that she was aware of the danger they were in. “This thing’s making a bit of noise.”

Braxiatel’s brows pinched hard together. “Koschei left the bolt running.”

“It’s gone into overload,” the Doctor admitted gravely. He nodded toward the booth, his eyes sad and defeated. “All of the excess radiation’s going to be vented in there.”

“Vinvocci glass,” Braxiatel offered. “It’ll contain the radiation – all five hundred thousand rads – but they won’t survive it.”

“But you can get us out, right, Doctor?” Donna peeped out. Panic was settling into her eyes. “We have time, yeah? You’re smart, you can get us out.”

“All you had to do was wait in Romana’s capsule,” he chided on a breath. “That’s all you had to do, Donna. Just wait. That’s all.”

“Yeah, got it,” she snapped in reply, her forced anger unable to adequately shield her fear. “You can tell me off later. Right now, you need to get us out of here.”

He looked to his brother. “It’s gone critical. Touch one control and it floods.” He held up his screwdriver, which would normally be the best option for opening the door without touching a single control. “But even this will set it off.”

“Then what do we do?” Donna asked sharply, panic now fully taking hold. “I can’t stay in here and die, Doctor. You can’t just leave us here to die. _Please_. I’m not ready to die.”

“I know,” he said with a nod. He slid his hands into his trouser pockets and slumped. “And I won’t. You know I won’t. I’ll go in there, save your lives, and lose my own in the process.” He lifted his head. “Humans. Such a bullheaded species. Just don’t think, do you?”

“Now is not the time to growl at me,” Donna yelped, her voice more filled with dread and terror than any forced kind of anger. She was teary, but not yet crying. “You can survive it, though, right?”

“Not with this face,” he breathed out. He took a step forward and felt himself held back by his brother’s hand. “Brax?”

“No,” he said firmly. “This is my fault as much as theirs. Let me do it.” He winced as he walked forward. His hands were clenched into fists at his side. He had a strong suspicion that Rassilon had taken away his power to regenerate, but he wouldn’t let it stop him. This whole sordid, nasty business was because he wanted to save his brother in the first place. He wouldn’t have allowed himself to lose everything for nothing.

“They’re my responsibility,’ the Doctor countered with a growl.

“And you’re _mine_ ,” Braxiatel snapped with a point of his finger as he strode with a quicker stride toward the booth. He looked back toward the Doctor, a pinch of annoyance in his eye. “You always have been. I wish you could understand that.” He turned back to the booth, ready to open the door but pulled to a sudden stop to see his mate standing in his way. “Romana,” he said with firm gentleness. “Please step out of my way.”

“I will not,” she answered with an unquestionable firmness. 

“Out of my way.”

“When I agreed to this madness, I agreed with only one condition,” she reminded him. “That if I decided to make a decision contrary to yours, then you would not argue me on it.” She looked to the glass and then back to him. “Neither of the two of them would be in there if I didn’t leave my capsule unlocked. I will take the radiation.”

“When I agreed to that,” he seethed. “I didn’t expect that it would involve you giving up a life.” He huffed. “I won’t allow it, Romana. I won’t let my mate, my hearts…”

“You have no choice,” she cut in. “This was the deal we made. This is the _consequence_ of the decision you made on behalf of us all.” She turned to the glass door and pressed her fingertips lightly on it. Her eyes shifted to the two humans trapped on the other side of the partition. “You will only have one or two seconds to exit. So move quickly or we’ll end up flooding the entire room and kill everyone in here.”

They both nodded eagerly, Donna put her hand on the handle ready to throw the door open.

Braxiatel slapped his hands on the glass either side of Romana’s shoulders. “Don’t do this,” he barked angrily. The anger than faltered. “Please. Don’t.”

She moved her head side to side to look at each of his hands. “Step away Braxiatel,” she warned him. She inhaled a deep breath and pulled open the door, barely able to fight against Braxiatel’s strength to hold it closed. She slipped in around the door and closed it hard behind her. Her head lifted to the ceiling as she waited for the hiss of power to release the radiation over her. 

Donna and Wilf exited the booth, Donna immediately throwing her arms around the Doctor with a sob of relief. “God. I was so scared.”

The Doctor held her with one arm to give her the comfort that she sought, but he was still turned just slightly away, his sad eyes on Romana. “I’m sorry,” he breathed out. “Romana, I’m so sorry.”

Braxiatel leapt to the very edge of the booth, to face his wife with pleading and apology. There was nothing he could do now, but he was going to beg and plead and yell anyway.

Her eyes shifted sadly toward her husband, and as the radiation let down into the booth, she dipped in her knees, threw her head backward and let out an agonised cry.

Braxiatel pounded on the glass with both hands, his fists bowing the glass with each strike. He called her name desperately, bellowed out pleas mixed with Gallifreyan profanity, and finally fell to his knees at the side of the booth. His hands splayed on the glass and he watched helplessly as she fell to the floor and curled into a ball.

It only took a few moments for her cries to finally cease. She slapped a hand hard against the glass, and valiantly pulled herself back up to a stand. Her eyes were aglow with amber when they finally opened, and within only seconds her hands started to shimmer. The Doctor was fast to haul open the door of the booth, Braxiatel at his side. Both of their hands were held out to offer her support, but Romana brushed to both of them off. She used her hands against the glass to finally push herself out of the booth, and with a definite stagger, she stumbled into the centre of the room.

Braxiatel called out to her and moved quickly forward, ready to catch her if she fell. She gave him an amber glare and shook her head at him. She held a glowing hand outward in a hard stop order.

“No, Brax.”

“Romana, please?”

Her head shook and she stumbled into a stand. Her arms spread out either side of her, and with one last yell, her face, neck, and arms shot out hot amber flames of regeneration that lit up the entire room. Above her light bulbs popped in their sockets and rained down orange sparks. Computer terminals zapped. The Vinvocci glass, capable of withstanding the radiation and Braxiatel’s assault, shattered with a loud bang.

The heat of regeneration ended just as quickly as it begun, and Romana stood in the centre of the room, her raven hair now brown, porcelain skin now full of colour and a spray of freckles across her cheek and nose, her green eyes now blue. She gained an inch or two in height, and her clothing was a little more snug than it had been.

She shook herself, took a quick look at her arms and hands, and then set her hands on her hips. “Right. Now that’s over. We need to call in the capsule pilots for pickup.” She looked toward Braxiatel, who was clearly still distraught. “You can head back with Hellequn and her pilot.”

He took a step forward. “Romana,” he breathed with low desperation. “Please.”

“You will head back,” she repeated.

He let out a breath and nodded. “Of course. As you wish.” He strode toward the squad commander and then past her, not even offering her a glance. “Come on, Commander. Time to head back.”

~~oooOOOooo~~


	83. Gallifrey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuff happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realise that I confused a few peeps with the last chapter. Sorry about that. Unfortunately it was hard to make any real explanation of things within what happened with Rassilon. I hope I've given a bit of an explanation here.
> 
> That, and then I had to deal with War-Thete (still can't call him Doctor ... ugh). I figured he'd be in a bit of a tizzy after seeing Gallifrey in the sky, and had to deal with that as well. Which meant I couldn't quite get to the bit that I wanted to. Let's see if I can scramble that up in the next hour or so.
> 
> Anyhoo. I hope you enjoy!

~~oooOOOooo~~

The Doctor watched his brother leave with a slight narrowing of his eyes. It wasn’t hard to see the forced lift in his shoulders, that taught hold that indicated he was anything but completely strong and assured right now. Braxiatel was in pain, and it was more than just the soreness from Rassilon’s attack.

“He’s not good,” he murmured more to himself than anyone else. “Should he be allowed to wander off without adult supervision?”

“Braxiatel will be fine,” Romana assured him with a sigh. “And it’s no worse him walking off in a bad mood than it would be if it were you.”

“I’m with the Doctor then,” Donna muttered. “Adult supervision should be considered mandatory.”

Romana flicked her attention toward Donna and her Grandfather. The firm voice she used with Braxiatel softened somewhat. “Are you both fine?”

“Physically,” Donna answered. “Emotionally? Well we might need to revisit that question a bit later. Not quite sure I’ve really fully come to terms with what just happened.”

Wilfred seemed less stable than his grand daughter. “Sweetheart?” he called to Romana, having referred to her by that moniker for the few years he’d known her on the other side of their property fence. He didn’t intend on stopping now.

She turned to face him, gracing him with a warm smile. “Yes, Wilfred?”

“I…” His brows pulled together with confusion. “I don’t know what I just saw. I know the Doctor explained this regenerating thing to me. But never seen it before, so I didn’t quite understand…” He scratched his head. His face creased with confusion. “Well. Guess now I know why Irving disappeared a while back and this other fella took his place.”

Donna lifted a brow and looked to him. “Dunno how you didn’t work it out, Grand dad. I mean, they kept calling him Brax…”

“I just thought that was the Arcadian word for Uncle,” he answered with a shrug.

“That would be Tonza or Tonzarinn,” the Doctor answered quietly. “Uncle and Aunt respectively. And to clarify, it’s not Arcadian, it’s Gallifreyan. Arcadia is a region, not a language.”

“Same thing here most of the time,” Donna offered. She stroked Wilf’s arm. “You gonna be okay, Grand dad? I know this was on the other side of weird for you.”

“My Grand Daughter is travelling with an alien,” he answered with a hard exhale. “Have to expect the strange stuff here and there.” He caught the Doctor’s small smile at that. “But while I am willing to accept the strange stuff…” He looked to Romana. “I’m not going to accept a young lady givin’ up her life for mine. Sweetheart, you shouldn’t have done that.”

Romana smiled weakly. “I could regenerate,” she offered. Her head shook lightly. “You and Donna couldn’t. It was the only choice we had to save your lives.”

Wilf flicked a hand toward the Doctor. “He could’ve done it. Brax as well. Didn’t have to leave it to a pretty young thing like you to step up.”

“How very discriminatory of you,” she said with a smile that held no offence. The smile fell and she shook her head. “Situationally, this was the only option to ensure your survival.” Her eyes flicked to the Doctor. “Your brother was insistent from the start that your life was to be preserved at all costs. Before we even knew the full extent of what was to happen here, he set this plan in motion to ensure that you would leave here with the same fact you walked in with.” She lowered her head just slightly to take her eyes from his. “He’d received warnings that you would fall here today, that the probability your life would be taken was high…”

“I’d heard the same warnings,” the Doctor admitted. He lifted his head to the sky. “I was hoping my interpretations of the warnings were wrong – especially given what I know of my future.”

Romana looked toward Wilf. “And Braxiatel can no longer regenerate..”

“What?” the Doctor barked out loudly. His head shook. “There’s no way he’s on his last.”

She shifted her attention to him. “He’s not. Only on his fourth.” He exhale shook. “But Rassilon took away his ability to regenerate further. Stripped him of title and ability – were you not listening at all during that encounter, Doctor?”

“Well yes, I was. Of course I was. Always listening. I just didn’t believe he was serious,” he scoffed. He rubbed at the back of his head. “To be honest, I thought it’d take a little more effort than that to remove a Time Lord’s ability to regenerate, especially when he’s still got so many left at his disposal.”

“I’ve stripped many Time Lords of their right to regenerate over the centuries,” Romana admitted softly. “The Staff of Rassilon is a powerful weapon. It can grant and excise regenerations at the will of whomever wields it.” She shook her head and looked at the Doctor with pain in her eyes. “Brax didn’t stand a chance once Rassilon had made his decision. I know that. I’ve made those same decisions, and wielded that power just as easily.”

‘But if he knew that,” Donna said with a gasp. Her hand flew to her mouth. “He knew he wouldn’t survive it, yet…” she gulped, unable to finish that thought.

Romana did it on her behalf. “Yet he was willing to sacrifice himself today? Yes. To save his brother, he would.” She swept her hair over her shoulder and straightened herself up. “Which is why I had to step in and make that sacrifice for him instead. I would not allow the sacrifices and actions he made today be in vain. I would also not allow my mate to perish. I may hold some minor hostility toward him right now, but my hearts do beat for that misguided fool, and they always will.”

“I’m not worth it,” the Doctor breathed out quietly. “I’m not worth his life. Not worth anyone’s life.”

“Your brother feels very differently on that matter,” she chided him. “And perhaps you might want to think on that for a while, Doctor. Think about how far everyone whose lives you touch is willing to go to protect and save you – no matter the personal consequences the suffer as a result.”

His head dipped low as his mind waded through his long list of companions and friends, and the lengths that they indeed went to in his name. So many brilliant, wonderful people who had easily seared themselves into his hearts – the woman in front of him one such companion.

“Without you,” she said softly. “I wouldn’t be who I am. Who I was before Rassilon was resurrected. And who I intend to be again when he is ultimately usurped from office.” She smiled somewhat dangerously. “Which I guarantee you will happen much sooner than later.”

“I had nothing to do with that,” he argued gruffly. “That was always who you were destined to become, Romana.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” she corrected him. She looked around at the mess inside the room and let out a long sigh. “But this is a discussion best abandoned for now. It does seem that we will have Earth-Military descending on this area in a moment. It’s best we aren’t here when they arrive. I really don’t have the patience or the will to deal with the myriad of unanswerable questions they’ll ask.” 

“I agree,” The Doctor said with a straightening of his shoulders. He clapped his hands together. “Right. So. Today’s dance with the Time War is over, and Rassilon has been sent back into Hell. Earth is safe.” His lips pursed. “Her people probably quite confused and suffering some rather extreme post hypnotic attack headaches.” His brows lifted and his eyes widened. “Might end up with a worldwide shortage of paracetamol as a result … which may result in panic and rioting in the streets – such is the human way of things.”

Romana let up a chuckle at his side, meanwhile Donna uttered a familiar two-letter word of offence.

“Oh you know it’s true, Donna,” he huffed.

“Yeah, wish I could actually disagree with that,” she said breathily with a shrug in her shoulders and a roll in her eyes. “But I really can’t.”

He gave her a wide grin and then looked to Romana. There was hope in them. “So. Back to the house, then? Let me check in on the wife and kids? Maybe stay a while?”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid not, Doctor.” She looked toward the window, where she believed his TARDIS was still in hiding. “You need to get back on out there for a little while longer yet.”

His lips puckered out with distaste. “Yeah,” he drawled long. “Right. My apology. I might’ve made that sound like it was a request on my part, which it really wasn’t. What I meant to say was..” His eyes hardened and his voice grew insistent. “I’ve really had quite enough of this Time Lord imposed run around where my family are concerned. You _will_ take me to Rose and my children. That’s not a request, that’s a demand.”

She let out a huff and lifted her eyes up in an exaggerated roll. “You of all people should know that I’m not so easily swayed, Doctor.” She dropped her eyes to his, unaffected by the rising fury she could see. “You can make no demands of me, so don’t bother trying to intimidate me. I grew immunity to that side of you within moments on stepping on board your TARDIS.”

“Don’t deny me this,” he demanded coldly. “I saw the condition she was in when Brax sent her back home. She’s going to need me there when she wakes if only so she can make sense of it.”

“And as we ascertained in my Capsule, Doctor, you are already with her.” Her head tilted to one side. “And so you – _this you_ – is not required.”

“You’re starting to make me angry,” he warned her. 

She gave a laugh. “And is that a threat, Doctor?”

“Take me to her, Romana,” he said firmly. His furious expression faltered toward pleading. “Please.”

“Your companion knows how to find her,” Romana stated with a flick of her hand toward Donna. “She’s known for quite some time, actually.” She looked to her. “She helped your brother through his last regeneration.” She looked back to the Doctor. “Despite the fact I can do so quite easily, I won’t take that knowledge away from her.”

Donna coughed. “I’m sorry, you think you can do what?”

“Simple mental adjustment,” the Doctor answered with his eyes still on Romana. There was a slight shrug in his shoulders. “Quick tap to the temple or the centre of the forehead, and the memories can be suppressed and locked away. Easy peasy for a Prydonian-trained Time Lord … or _Lady_ as it is in this case.” He flicked his eyes to his companion. “And she is really quite good at it.”

“Don’t you think I’ll let it be that easy,” she huffed. She folded her arms across her chest. “Not letting either of you anywhere near me to do that, thank you.”

Romana shifted her gaze between Donna and the Doctor, finally letting it settle on the Time Lord. “As I said: I’m not going to do that. I’m simply going to trust that you – as a dedicated Lord of Time who has spent his entire lives carefully protecting the laws and integrity of Time – will know better than to return before it’s safe to do so.”

She turned to walk away, pausing only to speak over her shoulder. “I won’t stop you if you decide to disobey and return early, of course.” She turned her head back to the end of the room and drew in a deep sigh. “I never believed in this pathway to begin with.”

“You just had no choice in it,” he replied as he slipped his hands into his trouser pockets and inhaled a deep breath of resignation. “When time makes her demands…”

Her answer was more of a ghostly sound from the darkness rather than a firm voice. “None of us ever do.”

The Doctor watched the empty space in front of him for a long moment. There was a slouch in his shoulders in a light tilt in his chin. His cheek dimpled with a tautly held jaw. It was clear he was battling a moment of indecision.

“I can tell you how to find her,” Donna offered. 

“I already know,” he answered her, his eyes still on the darkness ahead. “Should have known a while ago. Don’t quite know why I didn’t figure it out before today.” He looked at her with a slow blink of his eyes. “Rose is _Blondie_. She lives next door to you. Has done since before you and I met for the first time.” He sniffed and then swallowed with a dramatic roll in his Adams Apple. “Must be getting thick in my old age, I guess. Either that or I didn’t really want to know.”

“Honestly Doctor,” she defended quickly. “I didn’t know who she really was until a few months ago. Rose. She swore me to secrecy. Made me promise her I wouldn’t tell you till it was safe.”

“I understand,” he said in a voice that indicated he was about three solar systems away from understanding it at all. He tipped his head to the window, toward where the TARDIS waited. “Come on. Best I get your and Wilf home before your mother loses her mind and I end up with a slap across the face for my efforts.” He rubbed at his jaw with one hand, leaving the other in his pocket as he walked. “I’ll decide what I want to do when we get there.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Meanwhile, fifteen minutes ago back at New Lungbarrow…

The Doctor didn’t think too hard on the how’s and why’s of the appearance of his planet in the skies over London before he was on his feet and legging it back into the house. He fought down the shift in his stomach warning that he really wasn’t yet ready to get back into running so soon after heaving so violently. He used his hands against the walls of the hallway to propel him forward yet faster, knocking over a handcrafted wood bowl full of decorative plastic fruit on a small side table. The clatter of it onto the floor startled a small grouping of five soldiers gathered at the kitchen table. The playing cards they had in their hands were immediately thrown onto the table and they were on their feet with small weapons at the ready when the Doctor burst in through the door.

“By the will of Rassilon!” the Doctor remarked sharply as he skidded to a stop and held up his hands. “Put those weapons down. This is a home, not the battleground.”

The soldiers quickly holstered their weapons. One of them remained on his feet as the others took their seats and returned to bickering over the rules of a game they’d been playing.

“With respect, Lord Doctor,” the man on his feet pleaded with a flat tone of voice. “But the continued use of Rassilon’s name as an expletive or exclamation is considered insulting by all present.”

“Insult to the expletive, you mean,” one of the men muttered as he looked through the cards in his hands to sort them properly. “Not too many fans of the _resurrected one_ in these ranks.” He pulled his cards into his chest and glared toward another soldier. “Oi! No peeking, ya cheat.”

One side of the Doctor’s face was creased with annoyance. “Can I ask why it is that you four are seated here, playing a game of …”

“Arsehole,” one of the men chipped in. “Lady Rose taught it to us a few days back…”

“President,” another corrected him. “Come on, no need to be crass.”

He shrugged. “Hey, if the Lady calls it that, then it’s only proper that I use the same verbiage.”

“Yeah, till the Cardinal hears you calling it that,” he sneered in reply. “He hears you say that in front of the Lady of her children, and he’ll throw a fit.” He leaned forward with a forearm leaned across the table in front of him. “Remember how mad he got when Jemofas…”

“That will be enough of your gossip and banter,” the Doctor snapped. He thrust his arm toward the door. “Gallifrey has just appeared in the sky over London, and I’d very much like to know why.”

One of the soldiers peered up over his cards. There was a curious tilt of disbelief in his brow. “I’m sorry, Did you just say that Gallifrey – as in the planet – has just appeared in the sky?”

“Did I stutter when I said it?” the Doctor snapped. “Yes. Gallifrey has somehow moved across 250 million light years of space to appear over London.”

The soldiers at the table shared a look. In an identical movement, each of them threw their cards back on the table and with a loud scraping of wood against tile shot up from their chairs. They immediately scarpered past the Doctor and fled fast through the hallway toward the front door.

They clamoured out into the street in a perfect single-file formation that quickly switched into a V-shape once they got out into the road. The red-suited soldiers slowed their run to a walk, and each of them twirled with their stride with their heads up in the air until they each drew to a stop. They weren't alone in this, the street had filled with curious humans wondering the same thing they were.

“When the Cardinal said to expect a signal, I really didn’t expect anything of this magnitude,” one of them breathed out worriedly.

The Doctor kept his eyes on the soldier at the lead of the V as he approached. “Braxiatel _knew_ about this?”

The soldier’s eyes remained high. His mouth gaped, flapped, and a shudder of a shrug lightly shifted his shoulders. “I really don’t know, Sir.” He tilted his head to one of the other soldiers. “Dinsyl. Can you get a reading on it? Is it truly Gallifrey, and what’s the estimated time you can offer for collision?”

Dinsyl unclipped a small handheld scanner that looked much like a checkout scanner, and lifted it high above her head. She pulled the trigger, held a moment, and then released the scan and brought the display down to assess the data.

“Confirmed to be Gallifrey,” she confirmed with a voice of utter confusion. “Not yet fully materialised.” She lifted her head. “It hasn’t flown across the cosmos. It’s being pulled through the Vortex.”

“Full materialisation in how long?”

She swallowed. “Fifteen, twenty Earth minutes?” She looked toward the Doctor when he gave a grunt of displeasure, a sound he was renowned for uttering when he wasn’t happy with the way an answer was given to a question. “With apology, Lord Doctor.” She lifted her gloved hand high to point at the planet hovering above them. “This is unheard of, and there’s no way to accurately calibrate my equipment to read something like that in anything less than a decade.” Her hand dropped and she walked toward him with her scanner held in display. “I can only base my timeline on a comparison between the mass of a capsule and an entire planet to make my estimation.”

“That’s not nearly enough time to get people safe,” the Doctor said with a growl. He looked back at the house. “Not even them.” He shot a look toward the leader of the group. “Lord Musbuk, what were Braxiatel’s instructions?”

“That we remain on standby until further notice,” he answered with his eyes back up at his Planet slowly materialising up above them. His brows pinched to see the definite signs of massive endless fires burning across it’s surface. “By the Gods. How can anyone stop this?”

“The same way that they initiated it I would imagine,” the Doctor answered. He grabbed the shoulder of the soldier to force him to look at him. “Be specific. What did the Cardinal tell you? It’s clear that you five are active, yet standing by.”

“His Lord Cardinal is with Lady Romana, and an elder incarnation of yourself, Sir,” he answered without a falter in his voice. “Commander Hellequn of the Elite guard, and Commander Grevlia of the Mauve helmet have been engaged to duty by Lord Cardinal as back up support should they be required.”

“Which, judging by what is over out heads, I will assume they are.”

Musbuk nodded. “It is my understanding that they stand fifty-three strong against the Lord Master, who the Cardinal believes acts on behalf of his Lord Rassilon.”

The Doctor cursed under his breath. “Go on.”

“We have been instructed to remain on standby only.” He looked down to the Doctor. “Which is not where I wish to be right now, Sir.” He looked up again, only this time he did so through his brows. “I need to be there, continuing the battle for our people. And now, it seems, the people of earth.” His voice softened toward despair. “By the Gods, Sir. Is this what we’ve become? No wonder the rest of Kasterborous hates us. I’m teetering in that direction myself.”

“This has to stop,” Lady Dinsyl breathed out sadly in agreement. “We can’t continue this. I can’t continue to support the fight if this is what we been reduced to doing: Escaping like cowards to destroy the rest of the universe.”

The Doctor looked between the two soldiers and to their utter heartsbreak and devastation. Behind the two of them, three matching expressions watched the sky above. He lifted his head as well with thoughts and heartsbreak of his own running through his head.

The sentiments so candidly shared by the battle capsule pilots were sentiments shared across the entire planet. Centuries of war had taken its toll on them all, with many ready to declare defeat. Too many wondering just what would be left of them even if they did defeat the Daleks. Gallifrey was devastated and near barron. Entire species of animals and plants wiped into extinction by the flames of war.

What, really, was left?

“No more,” the Doctor murmured to himself. He wasn’t surprised to hear the same sentiment echoed behind him.

“All we can have faith in,” Dinsyl said softly to the Doctor. “Is that the best of _us_ is fighting with the best of _them_.” She swallowed. “If you, The Cardinal, and Lady Romana can’t lead Hellequn, Grevlia, and their teams to victory, then victory against Rassilon was never meant to be ours.”

There was a sudden hot wash of air over the street, winds that blew each of them off balance. Dust kicked up around them, and even through each of them wore helmets over their faces, they brought their arms up to shield their eyes. The Doctor was the only one of them to remain on his feet without a cower toward the harsh dusty wind. He stood as tall as his aching bones would let him and kept his eyes on the planet hovering above them.

“It’s disappearing,” Musbuk said with a cheer and a point toward the sky. “They did it! They actually did it!”

The Doctor looked up. Indeed Gallifrey was shuddering out of existence. Its retreat was slow, but it retreated nonetheless. He found himself smiling. “It certainly looks like we did, doesn’t it?”

Musbuk slapped him jubilantly on the arm. There was no hiding his excitement and cheer. “That’s more than just _looks like it_ , Sir. That’s outright victory. That’s what happens when they try to take on the best of us…” he calmed somewhat to look up into an empty sky. His smile was wide and his breath awed. “Magnificent. I wish I was there to be part of that.”

“No,” the Doctor corrected him softly. “No, you don’t.” He shook his head. “There’s no telling what the damage to any of them are. Rassilon is not an easy man to defeat.” He huffed. “There are bound to be casualties of some form.”

Musbuck suddenly leaned his head down to his shoulder. He listened for a moment and all jubilance and excitement fled. His head shot up and he looked to the team. “Right. They’re calling for pickup. Enough standing around and nattering about it. We’ve gotto go.”

The entire group of red suited capsule pilots spun on their heels and marched determinedly toward the home. The Doctor waited outside for a fraction of a moment later. His eyes were in the sky above and although Gallifrey was no longer part of the skyline, he could see the burning planet as clearly as if it was. To this point, he’d been in the midst of the war, on the ground, with only a short sighted view of the damage to his home. Seeing it in the sky, in all its glory, he could see just how destroyed the land was.

“There’s nothing left,” he said to himself. “Nothing left to fight for.”

There was an unsettled grumble inside his belly as a decision was made, and he turned slowly in place. “No more,” he whispered quietly as he walked into the home. It was time to prepare for the end of the war – and it would all be on his hands.

The only consolation he could draw from it was that there would be survivors. That the Time Lords and Gallifreyan people would live on even if the planet itself didn’t.

~~oooOOOooo~~


	84. Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brax and Thete have a chat and bond a little...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of that Arc and the very beginning of what comes next, which I hope will be exciting. 
> 
> Not much to say about this chapter except to say that it was not as difficult as it was painful to write. For the last bit with the lads, listen to the Powderfinger song Nobody Sees ... While I wasn't listening to it while writing any of it, it did pop up on my Apple Music while I was posting the chapter, and all of a sudden I thought... shit .. it actually fits.
> 
> I hope you enjoy. More than that, I hope you might get a couple of feels from this chapter... :) Day of the Doctor to start tomorrow... Looking forward to writing that one! I hope you're looking forward to reading it.

~~oooOOOooo~~

At the materialisation of Commander Hellequn’s battle capsule back at New Lungbarrow, Braxiatel was immediately out of the doors. The soldiers that traveled within his capsule revelled in the victory against Rassilon. They held arms across the shoulders of their comrades and sang songs and chants of victory. The capsule pilot who had been called to collect them spoke of the image of Gallifrey in the sky above them to an enraptured group of soldiers who hung on his words with shock and awe.

Braxiatel couldn’t fault them from celebrating this somewhat small victory. It was very likely the beginning of many to come in the months and years to follow…

…Of course, that was only if Gallifrey was to survive the war, which he was no longer fully confident about. That outcome was now well and truly up in the air thanks to _him_ , wasn’t it? A foolish, and quite frankly pointless, act on his part now had Thete not only furious, but very likely now insistent that he regain control over that which was taken from him. He didn’t know if his brother could be held back any longer from his family, and to be honest, he didn’t even want to try and hold him back anymore.

…Come get ‘em, Thete.

The distance that stood between the battle and the medical capsules was relatively short, but it felt like the green mile to him. Whatever scowl he was wearing was dark and impressive enough that it had anyone in his way yelp out a shocked sound or profanity and leap off to one side to escape. Even the most senior soldiers who were more than used to his dark Lungbarrow glower stepped off quickly to the side. He didn’t bother with apology to any of them. He didn’t even acknowledge their presence. He was moving in a very particular direction, with a very particular purpose. If any of them wanted to speak with him, then they could just wait.

He stepped over the threshold of the medical capsule and only managed a single stride forward before he felt himself near choking. His elbow lifted up to cover his mouth and nose, which muffled his annoyed question.

“What in the Gods is that smell?”

Lord Phiroi, the doctor who had charged himself with Rose’s care looked up from scrawling information into her chart and gave him a rather swift look of assessment. “Well. You look like hell, Lord Cardinal.” He gestured toward an empty gurney beside his current patient. “Might need to take a quick look at you.”

His elbow was still at his nose and his eyes watered as he battled against the stench of the room. “Again, I’m going to ask what smells in here.”

Sarah Jane lifted from the stool beside Rose’s gurney to stand in greeting. “The metallic burnt electronics and plastic smell?” She caught his nod. “Ahh. Yes. That’s a question I’ve been meaning to ask, myself. Quite potent, isn’t it?”

Phiroi’s attention shifted to Sarah Jane. “That’s the scent of Lindos you’re detecting,” he answered her in the manner a lecturer might. “To those of us who regenerate, it’s relatively odourless. Our olfactory sensory neurons have adapted to dismiss the scent as it’s non-hazardous to our species. As it’s a new scent to you, it’s going to be strong and unnerving until your own...”

“Enough of the lecture,” Braxiatel muttered with a huff. “I asked what the smell was – not the in-depth analysis of the Time Lord olfactory system versus the human one.” He stopped beside Rose’s gurney and pressed his fists onto the mattress to fall into a slouch. He cracked his neck and winced at the ache in his hip and back. 

“Do I need to assess you?” Phiroi asked as he lifted a scanner to Braxiatel’s forehead.

He slapped it out of the way with a swat of his hand. “I’m perfectly fine,” he groused. “I just tangled with the Master and Rassilon, I’m bound to have an ache or bruise.” He looked down to the bed and the woman sleeping silently below him. “How’s Rose?”

“Perfectly fine,” he answered. “Thanks to his Lord Doctor’s intervention.”

Braxiatel had to huff out a laugh. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” with his head down, he lifted his eyes to the doctor. “What did he have to do? What would have happened if he didn’t intervene?”

“Well,” Phiroi answered with a smile. “Rather unorthodox treatment on his part, I have to admit, but it certainly did seem to do the trick.”

“And what was that?”

“He kissed her,” Sarah Jane answered with a quiet laugh. “Said he needed to do it to draw off, what was it? Huon?”

Braxiatel’s eyes flashed at that. Phiroi, however, spoke to that. “In the moment it was definitely the most effective means of drawing off the power while protecting the other members on staff and yourself, of course, Miss Smith. We could have used a mask to a containment unit, but that would have taken some time to put together and calibrate properly.” He shifted his gaze to Braxiatel. “Time was off the essence, of course. And might I enquire: He stands as her mate?”

“In another incarnation, yes,” Braxiatel answered with a nod. “But not this one. He’s quite far removed from what she needs. Which means I still stand as guardian to her needs, health, and wellbeing. Am I understood on that? The less Thete knows the better.”

“I think it’s far to say he already knows too much,” Sarah Jane offered quietly. There was disapproval in her tone. “I don’t need to be time sensitive or a Time Lord to know that this is a very dangerous moment in his timeline.”

“Tenuous is a more accurate descriptor,” Braxiatel corrected gently. “Thete can be a rash-headed fool, but even he knows when he has to step back and accept what’s right…”

“Even when it isn’t?” she asked him. “Right, that is. Because none of this is right, not for any of them.”

“You’re looking at it from a very subjective standpoint,” he argued lightly. “If none of this happened, if my brother and his wife were left in their blissful state, then we wouldn’t be where we are now. Thete would never have regenerated in a warrior incarnation willing to draw arms and fight with the very best Gallifrey has to offer. We would never have been able to pull together this outpost that has saved … By the Gods, it’s saved so many people…”

“I really don’t think you understand, Braxiatel..”

“I don’t understand?” he barked out with anger. “You think I don’t understand how utterly destructive this path is? That I don’t understand the heartbreak?”

“Well no,” she tried, only to be cut off again.

“Sarah Jane, let me assure you that I am very much aware of what this has done, and is continuing to do to my family.” He panted as though trying to catch breath. “I lost the closeness that I shared with my brother over those years on Gallifrey. A familial bond I never dared hope the two of us would share, a comraderie I didn’t even _know_ I wanted until I lost it.” His hands curled into tight fists on the mattress. And despite the taut hold he had in his hands and shoulders, his voice was remarkably controlled. “I have watched the one I am proud to call my sister suffer in silence, too scared of upsetting her children to properly grieve the loss of her husband. I haven’t heard the voice of my niece – a right little babbler when she was with her father – in almost three years. Too traumatised by what she saw that day to find her voice. My nephew struggles every day trying to stay strong in the face of all of us, too scared to show weakness, although he is barely holding on himself as he faces life on a new planet, with a new language, and a society of people he can’t ever hope to identify with.”

Braxital winced and drew in a breath. “Myself. Tonight I lost everything … _everything_ I have ever held dear.” His head lifted to show an expression of pain toward the far corner of the room. “Any chance I may have had to reaffirm the bond I had with my brother is gone. I’ve lost my family, my sister, my precious niece and nephew. My wife has all but demanded a severance to our bond.” He closed his eyes over his own hurt. “I’ve lost my titles, my ability to regenerate, and even my home. Rassilon has decreed that I am now exiled to live a singular life … _alone_ … away from all I’ve ever known.” He finally shifted his head to her. “So yes. I know heartbreak, Miss. Smith.”

Her hands had shifted to cover her mouth about half way through his quiet rant. It was tempting to give a comforting touch to his arm and kind words of support, but she knew it would be seen more as a condescending pet of pity. Instead she just shook her head and softly said his name.

Phiroi, for his part, gazed upon Braxiatel with empathy. “This can and will be rectified, Lord Cardinal.”

“I’m no longer Cardinal,” he corrected him with surprising strength of voice. “No longer Lord. Just plain Irving Braxiatel, now.”

“Not in my eyes, Sir,” he answered with a supportive and firm tone. “And not in the eyes of any around here, I can assure you.”

“Appreciated of course,” he said gratefully. “However, fact does remain that it is the rule of Rassilon, and therefore the terms of his decree must be met … by all of you.” He looked down to Rose and sniffed deeply. “Is she okay to be moved, Lord Phiroi? I would much rather that Rose be settled comfortably in her bed than laid out here on a gurney. Particularly once the children wake. They don’t need to see her here in medical.”

He nodded. “She’s still coming through a restorative coma, but is stable enough to be moved into her own bed. I can arrange for a nurse to check on her throughout the evening to monitor her vitals, but I don’t believe it entirely necessary.”

“I thank you,” Braxiatel said with a light bow in his head. He slid his arms underneath Rose’s knees and shoulder. With a light grunt, he picked her up off the gurney and pulled her in tight against his chest. He paused a moment to settle her properly and settled his cheek into her hair. “Miss Smith. If you can give me a few moments, I will arrange to have you taken home. There’s really no need for you to remain here any longer this evening, but I thank you for your kindness and support of Rose this evening. Thete has always spoken highly of you, and I can see why.”

Braxiatel turned toward the door, with Rose held securely in his arms and his cheek on her head. His eyes were hooded close to fully closed as he strode forward, but opened as he drew in a deep breath through his mouth. He paused for a second at the sight of his war-torn brother standing almost forlornly in the doorway.

“Thete,” he managed with the typical gruffness he used to greet his brother.

“Brax,” he answered with a pinch in his brow and a shake in his head. Although his voice was gruff, it held sadness. “What did you do?”

He would have shrugged if he didn’t have a woman in his arms. Instead he merely sighed out a breath as he passed through the doorway. “The very same thing I’d do if I had to do it over again,” he answered without further explanation. “Now excuse me, please. I need to get Rose settled comfortably. She’s been through a lot tonight.”

“Seems to me so have you.”

“Yeah,” he drawled. “We all have.” He looked to the men and women still revelling just outside the kitchen door. “Go and celebrate with them,” he suggested. “You – the elder you, of course – had a big part in that success. You deserve the cheer and what looks to be some of the best moonshine the Southern Mountaineers have distilled this side of Mutter’s Spiral.” He shook his head. “Then find the still and destroy it, please? We don’t need the sodding thing becoming unstable and exploding inside one of those capsules.”

He strode away and up the stairs to take Rose to her bed. He could tell without looking that his brother hadn’t left the space he’d left him in. It was clear that there was not going to be any celebratory drinking happening with Thete this evening. He could read in his brother’s posture that he had a myriad of very painful thoughts running through his mind. While that might have left him scared and worried toward the fate of the universe on any other day, right now Braxiatel simply couldn’t be bothered with it. Whatever happened from here happened. He wasn’t going to worry about it anymore.

At least, not about anything less important than the woman in his arms, her children, his apparently doomed marriage, and just where the hell he was going to go from here.

He turned the two of them to carefully manoeuvre them into Rose’s room and very tenderly placed her in the centre of her large king-sized bed. He drew a thin blanket that was folded at the foot of her bed up and over her, then took a seat on the mattress beside her. He didn’t immediately face her, preferring to spend a long moment with his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees to contemplate his current circumstance a moment. 

A long winded multisyllable curse that belonged in the Gallifreyan record books as being the absolute worst word one could utter quietly passed through his lips. He left his hands in place to scrape down along his face as he finally lifted his head to look over the tops of his fingers. “What am I going to do now?” he asked himself with a whisper. He held himself in that position for a long moment, but with a huff at himself, he finally pressed his hands into his knees and pushed himself up off the bed. He turned and leaned down over the sleeping woman.

“You are, and always will be in my hearts,” he vowed on a whisper as he pressed his lips into the centre of her brow. His lips remained on her skin and he chuckled a light and rueful pair of breaths. “And they’re all I’ve got left in the universe.” He lifted enough only to shift his face to run the tip of his nose along the bridge of hers to press their foreheads together. “I’m so very sorry.”

She exhaled underneath him but didn’t wake. With one last and very chaste kiss to her forehead, he rose to a stand and walked slowly to her bedroom door. He was remarkably silent as he latched the door closed with a turn of the door handle.

“Tonza-Brax?”

He looked down at the tiny voice beside him and beamed a grin down toward Alirra who rubbed tiredly at her eye with one fist and dragged a stuffed Flubble teddybear along the floor with the other. He dipped down into a crouch. “You should be in bed, darling,” he cooed in a chiding that really wasn’t.

“Had a dream,” she said with a pout. “Woke me up.”

“Good dream?” he queried with genuine curiosity. “Or a bad one?”

“Um. Are _unicorns_ bad?” she asked him with a tilted head and a pout in her bottom lip. 

“Depends. And listen very carefully, because this is going to be a very important thing for you to tell me if you want me to give you an honest answer to your question.” His brows were up with exaggerated need to know the answer to the question he was about to ask. “Was it farting rainbows, or playing swordfights with its horn?” 

She laughed at him as she pressed her teeth tightly together with a wide grin and leaned forward to put her arms around his neck. “You’re silly Tonza-Brax.”

He curled his arm underneath her bottom and lifted her up as he stood. “It’s so wonderful to hear your voice, darling,” he said with a sigh as he walked them both into her bedroom. “And I could listen to you talk for hours. But right now it’s time for little Time Ladies to go to bed.”

She gave a wide yawn and a nod of her head. When he placed her back into her bed, she rolled from her back, onto her side, and then curled up into a ball as he pulled her blanket over her. She pulled her flubble in against her chest and pressed her hand into the middle of Braxiatel’s chest. “In here,” she said to him. Then she pulled her hand back and put it in between her own hearts. “In here.”

“Yes, Alirra sweetheart,” he assured her with a kiss to her forehead. “You are in my hearts. Sleep well.”

He very quickly lifted to a stand when he heard her little snuffle and sigh as she curled around her teddybear. He paused to check on the other little girl sleeping quietly in a crib and then walked to the doorway, closing it only enough that there was only a small crack to let in light from the hallway. He held either side of the doorframe and held his head low in his shoulders. A small shift of the head and he looked toward Mark’s room, and the closed door with a firmly ordered “Sister-Free Zone. Don’t Enter” sign in circular Gallifreyan adhered to his door with tape. At that he had to break a smile and he recalled similar signs going up on the doors at Lungbarrow when he and Thete were kids.

By the Gods would he miss these youngsters. 

He felt a shift in the room around him, caught the acrid scent of Lindos combined with the tender scent of Magnolia blooms, and turned to it source.

“Romana,” he breathed out with question and desperation. He held out his hands to her, asking for her to come to him as she walked toward the room the two of them shared whenever they stayed on Earth. “Please?”

She passed him with a look in her eyes that was – for the most part – unreadable. “I’m very tired,” she said with quiet firmness. “I need to sleep.”

“Can I hold you?” he questioned softly. “While you sleep?”

She held the doorframe with one hand down near her hip and let out a sigh. Slowly she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Brax. Not tonight. I…” She let out a breath and shook her head, her eyes lifting to his. “We can talk in the morning when I’m not rippling with regeneration energy. It’s not safe for you right now given …” She swallowed. “Given your new _circumstance_.”

“Am I not enough for you now?” he asked with slight sharpness to his tone. “Now that I’m no longer Time Lord?”

“I’m not going to dignify that with a response,” she growled in reply her blue eyes wide with anger. Although clearly upset, her voice softened to resignation. “We’ll speak in the morning. Good night Braxiatel.”

He watched the door without expression and without breathing. No part of him was willing to move at all. When the lock lightly snicked closed, however, he moved quickly. He pushed both hands off the walls of the hallway to propel himself forward with a purposeful stride. He took the stairs two at a time, skipping the last three in their entirely. A curl of his hand around the ball on the end baluster pole turned him sharply and he marched with pure fury toward the doors of his capsule.

“Cardinal?” a soldier called out with a tumbler of moonshine in his hand. “Join us!”

“Not now,” he snarled in reply as he shoved at the double-doors of his capsule. He didn’t bother to close them behind him as he stalked across the landing toward the centre console and a desk full of centuries of carefully collected military intelligence.

For a moment he stood in a hunch of anger and stared toward his desk. He scanned the scrolls of diagrams rolled up in the corners and against the wall behind the desk. His eyes traced along the scattering of papers across the desk, held down by weighted trinkets and souvenirs his brother had cheekily sent him over the years. He saw the grouping of framed photographs that graced the desk at the sides of his computer monitor. His parents. His brother and his family. His wife. A scribbled crayon drawing from his niece…

…And Irving Braxiatel broke.

A long and loud yell of utter fury exploded from somewhere deep inside his chest, and he launched forward. With a single violent sweep of an arm across his body, he cleared his desk completely. Glass shattered with an explosive pop, plastic clattered, and metal clanged out loudly as it struck the marble floor of the capsule. His cry continued loud and unabated as he gripped the edge of the desk and shoved at it with enough force to shift the solid wood monstrosity from where it had been seated for nearly seven hundred years.

His tirade against his desk lasted only a few seconds, and as he expelled all the breath that had been held inside, he finally turned and then collapsed onto his ass on the ground. He pushed his back up against the front of his desk, and drew his knees up to his face. Unable to fight it anymore, he let out a choking sob. One after the other until he shattered completely, unable to stop, unable to even draw in a breath and breathe.

After a while of suffering in a rather vocal manner, there was movement at his side. The hot winds and dust of Gallifrey kicked up as a lumbering figure fell heavily at his side. “Brax.”

“Thete,” Brax managed out in a stumbled manner. “Now’s not the time.”

A box of tissues was thrust toward him. “This is probably all the time I’ve got left here, so now’s definitely the time.”

He snatched the box from his brother and was harsh in his pull to release a tissue. The first pull gave him a torn sheet, as did his second. When the third pull provided the same, he gave up and tossed the offending box across the room with a swear and a grunt.

The Doctor leaned back on the desk beside his brother, with his knees up in the same manner. He leaned his forearms along the tops of his knees and looked ahead of them to the now closed capsule doors. “I know it might seem hopeless now, Brax, but in time…”

“Oh don’t give me that,” he snapped in reply. “I really don’t need empty platitudes, least of all from you.”

“I’ll try not to take offence to that,” he gruffed. “Despite your efforts, of course.” He drew in a deep breath. “Bad day?”

Braxiatel stretched out the torn sheets of tissue in an attempt to try and figure out how he could effectively use such a small piece. “You could say that,” he answered with a curl in his lip. “Don’t know that it could’ve gone any worse.”

“Oh,” he said with a laugh and a nod of his head. “Yeah, it really could have.”

“Well yes,” he agreed with a roll of annoyance in his eyes. “Planetary destruction, billions of innocent deaths, the rise of the Time Lords and the execution of the entire universe. Sure, Brother, force some perspective into me, why don’t you.” He gave up with the scrap of tissues and angrily tossed it to one side. “Heavens forbid that I be permitted a moment of selfishness…”

The Doctor rolled his head and looked at him with a single brow lifted. “Really?”

“I just lost everything,” he huffed out. “My family. My identity. My home. I don’t know who am I am now, and that’s terrifying.”

“You haven’t lost me,” he corrected with a shrug. “I’m still here.”

“Well that makes me feel so much better,” he grumbled with petulant facetiousness. He dropped his forehead into his palm. “Just how many times have we seen each other in the last four hundred and fifty years? Go on. Tell me.” He rubbed at his brows. “I’ll give you a hint, you can count the number on one hand.”

The Doctor pursed his lips and widened his eyes as he let them roll with annoyance. He’d never known his brother to be quite so petulant. “It’s never been a part of our relationship that’s bothered you before.”

“Until we spent ten years as actual brothers,” he admitted. “With you happily settled for the first – and only – time in your lives.”

“What happened?”

He shook his head. “You’ll find out.”

“As is my understanding, it’s already happened,” the Doctor countered lightly. 

“The elder version of you I was with this evening has a decent idea, which leads me to believe you learn along the way,” Braxiatel ventured. He finally decided to wipe at his nose with his Oxford rather than trying to simply sniff himself clear. He slumped back with a curl of upset in his lip. “For everything, Thete. For whatever it might be worth to you. I’m really very sorry. I did what I could, I vow to you on that.”

He nodded slowly. “I imagine you did. Not just for my family, but for Gallifrey and her people.” He shifted his head. “At what you believe right now was at great sacrifice to you.”

“Yeah. You could say that.”

He turned back to face the front. “I’m heading back to Gallifrey.”

Braxiatel looked straight ahead of him. He heard the tone in the Doctor’s voice that warned that the visit he intended to make to their planet was more than just a return to battle. “What are you going to do?”

His voice cracked. “I have to end it.”

A curse breathed out past Braxiatel’s lips. He exhaled a long breath and then closed his eyes and lowered his head. “You intend on wielding the Moment, don’t you?”

“You saw what happened tonight, Brax, do you think there’s a choice otherwise?” He raked a hand through his fringe and held a fistful of his hair inside a tight grip. “We’ve lost. And not the Time Lords. Not Rassilon. But the exhausted soldiers, the innocent bystanders caught up in it. Not just Gallifrey, but all of Kasterborous and beyond.” He sniffed wetly. “We almost lost Earth tonight, a planet that isn’t even in the pathway to this war.”

“Are you looking for my approval, Thete?”

“No,” he answered with a shake in his head, shorted by the grip he had on his hair. There was emotion heavy in his voice. “But I need you to know. You, Brax. My brother. The one person left in this entire universe who I … Who…” he faltered and drew in a shuddering breath. A quiet Gallifreyan curse slid out of his throat.

“It’s okay,” he assured him. “It doesn’t need to be said. I _know_.”

“I want you to understand,” he continued. “I have no choice. This has to be done to save anything we have left.” He released his hair and let his hand fall in the space between he and Braxiatel. “But at least I can do it knowing that we have some of us left.”

Braxiatel looked down at his brother’s hand. At the gnarl and curl of his fingers up over his open palm. In an extremely odd move, he dropped his hand to grasp the Doctor’s hand in his. He held it firmly, fighting against the immediate instinctive response the Doctor had to pull away.

“Thete,” he began with a stronger voice than he thought himself capable of. “You do what you have to do. You do what you feel needs to be done.” He turned his head to look at him. “No matter the consequence.”

The Doctor looked down at his hand held firm inside his brother’s. He stopped fighting against the hold, relaxed, and looked up. “You mean become you?”

“No,” he corrected. “Be _you_ , Thete.” He relaxed the grasp he had on his hand but didn’t release him fully. He merely kept their hands loosely together. “You’ve always done what you thought best … was _is_ best.” He rolled his head back and looked toward his capsule doors. “I don’t imagine this is any different to any one of the times you had to make a hard call to make things right.”

“I don’t know if I can even do it,” he admitted as a fat tear rolled down his weathered cheek. “This is everything we know, Brax. This is our home. Our people.”

Brax brought his free hand up to cover his eyes. Once again the pain of the day, and the pain of loss kicked at his shoulders and drew a sob up from deep inside his belly. “It’s the only way. We can’t do this anymore. None of us can do this anymore.”

The Doctor nodded only a single bob of his head before he was brought to the same condition as his brother. His free hand lifted to cover his face and he allowed himself a moment to shatter himself. He knew once this was over, he’d no allow himself the luxury of grief. If he was going to wallow for even a moment, it was fitting that he be at his broken brother’s side when he did.

They shared their sorrows, their silent weeping, for a long few moments. When they finally did decide that enough was enough and the time for strength was here, they both moved in an identical manner. They dropped each other’s hand and wiped at their eyes and noses with their sleeves. Identical gulps of air through their mouth, followed by identical grunts of pain as they slowly drew themselves to a stand.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt quite as old as I do at this moment,” the Doctor said flatly as he brushed himself off.

“I’ve got almost two decades on you,” Braxiatel gruffed. He exhaled hard and straightened himself up. “Well. I suppose it’s time for the both of us to do what we need to do, brother.”

“If I was an earlier incarnation, I might actually hug you and wish you well,” the Doctor muttered. 

“If I was one of your pretty female companions, then I might actually let you,” Braxiatel shot back with a shrug. 

The Doctor reached a hand forward and took Braxiatel’s hand in his instead. He gave it a good squeeze and then a nod of his head. “The path you take from here, Brax. May it be a good one.”

“And you, Thete…” he closed his eyes and then opened them again slowly. “You’re my brother, and you’re in my hearts.” He smiled weakly. “No matter how you choose to end this war, I’m behind you.”

“We’re Time Lords,” the Doctor said with a slight growl of discomfort. “This emotional talk really is not appropriate for our kind.”

Braxiatel shrugged. “Well. Good thing I’m not a Time Lord, then, is it?” He stepped forward and pulled open the doors to his capsule. He stepped out of the capsule and thrust his hands into his trouser pockets as he headed toward the front door and swiped a set of car keys from the wooden bowl beside the door. “Miss Smith,” he called out. “Come on. It’s getting late and I really should be getting you home.”

The Doctor turned to walk in the opposite direction, toward where his TARDIS was parked. He paused a moment and looked over his shoulder at his brother as he waited for Sarah Jane to join him. “Brax,” he called out.

Braxiatel looked up from the doorway. His eyes were wide with question.

“Don’t be rash,” he warned hi, knowing full well the intention in his brother’s mind. “Or at the very least.” He looked up at the stairs. “Say good bye.”

“Good bye, Thete,” he answered with a cheeky yet sad smile.

“Not to me, you damn fool,” he muttered to himself as he slid his hands into his trouser pockets and made his way toward his TARDIS. He stopped for only a second with his flat palm along her wooden door, and then shook his head and pushed it open.

There was only one thought left in his mind as he strode up to the console and input the coordinates that would take him back to Gallifrey.

“No more.”

~~oooOOOooo~~


	85. The Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The War Doctor returns to Gallifrey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go. My take on Day of the Doctor... A story I hope will be groovy!
> 
> I haven't seen this episode in a while, and have not referred to the transcripts thus far. However, I do recall the general path of it and so will say that if you recognise bits, I do have to give credit to the Moff for it...
> 
> It's early here, so I may just be able to get a second chappy up today... no promises, of course ... but we shall see.
> 
> I sinceriously hope you enjoy this chapter.

~~oooOOOooo~~

The hot winds of a Gallifreyan afternoon kicked up a swirl of dust around his ankles and knees as he strode a slow lumbering stride across a barren plain toward a lone wooden shed. Once upon a time this land was a lush farmer’s field. For centuries it was one of the main producers of crisp vegetables for the entire eastern plains – twenty generations of men and women working hard to eke out a very comfortable life for themselves. 

The weekends of his youth had been spent wandering the fields with their perfectly planted lines of vegetables with his mother, Innocet, or Satthralope to pick out the best produce to purchase for the family back at Lungbarrow. He’d chased many a flutterwing or panicking tafelshrew that scarpered out of the shrubs in escape as a mere loomling. He’d also scraped his knees and the palms of his hands as he tripped and stumbled over a stray root or watersprout.

Her knew this place so well. He recalled the beauty and splendour of it. He had fond memories of the weekly shopping trips. Now it was nothing but hot dust. A land destroyed by the fires of war and the hot wash of dedicated soldiers falling into painful death, only to be reborn and have to suffer the same fate again. Over and over. Nothing could survive that, and from what he could see through his weary eyes, nothing did.

There was the occasional moist crunch of a random remaining shrub underneath his boot as he walked. A dry leaf would skip and tumble along the ground caught by the wind. He tried not to think about it, tried not to see the ghosts of the men and women who tended the fields and so warmly greeted their patrons. He tried not to hear the sounds of farm machinery long ago silenced.

The weight on his shoulders, held in place by a long scrap of old torn hessian, tugged down uncomfortably. He stopped walking only long enough to give a slight jump to reset the seat of the package he held on his back, then grunted and kept on along his path.

The weeping in his mind drove him forward. While he knew that his TARDIS was showing her sadness to him so openly in attempt to make him change his mind, he wasn’t going to change his mind. In time she would forgive this transgression. Possibly before he would be able to forgive himself for it. At least by leaving her so far away from the old barn he could take away her part in it. She could take solace in knowing that it was him and him alone, that would perform this final act. This was a war that couldn’t be won by conventional means… What was he saying? It wasn’t a war that could be won…

…Because what he was about to do wasn’t victory. It was nowhere near close to a victorious act. This was several large solar systems and galaxies away from being victorious. It was defeat, plain and simple. Complete and total defeat.

He shoved his flattened palm into the rickety wooden door of the barn to throw it open, and coughed at the sudden violent rise of fine dust that the shifting door threw up. He covered his mouth and nose with the dusted sleeve of his jacket and strode inside with purpose, walking quickly to the centre of the barn to set his package down with a soft thud in the dirt. A groan passed through his teeth as he held at his lower back and gave it a quick stretch and rolled his shoulders back to straighten up his wearing spine.

He didn’t bother to take any kind of look around him. He did notice that they barn was much less dark and dreary than he thought should be appropriate for what he was about to do. It was instead well lit with the suns above shining through large gaps in the structure left by missing wooden slats destroyed by lazer blasts and general disrepair. He didn’t much appreciate it, really. He would have preferred that the barn was intact enough for it to be dark and miserable – much like he was – but he would make do with the light and warm breeze. At least his last memory of Gallifrey would be warm and bright.

There was a click and a beep to his left, and the Doctor looked toward the covered box at the centre of the room.

“Right,” he muttered to himself to acknowledge the box. “Best we get this over with.”

He dropped into a crouch at its side and quickly undid the thick cord he’d used to create the crude sack. It fell open with a light whoof and spread around the ground underneath the box with an exhaustion that perfectly matched his own sense of it. He might have smiled at it had his attention not been captured and held by this ornately designed clockwork box. His hands shifted over it a moment as he sought to find the answer of how to actually use it. Like the puzzle boxes that would entertain and stymy him for hours back in his very very young days, this did seem as though it would require some rather intensive thought to try and work it out.

After tipping it one side to the other to look at each of its six facets to find any clue he finally let it sit and let out an annoyed huff. “How do you work then?” he asked himself gruffly. “Why is there never a big red button?”

He heard the scuffling of feet in the dirt and lifted his head quickly. Panic flooded his system to think that he’d been followed, so he shot to his feet and ran to the door. He stuck his head out of the door and looked at the barren landscape outside. There was nothing. Noone. He couldn’t see anyone or anything except the swirling dust outside. With an exhale and a shake of his head, he pushed the door closed and lay his hands on the wood.

“Nothing,” he muttered to himself. “Just my mind playing games with me.”

“Oh,” a whisper of amusement sang against his ear. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

He spun in place, his fists at the ready to defend himself if necessary. “Who goes there?” he demanded with a threatening tone. “Show yourself.”

“Well,” a less ghostly and much more embodied voice sang out. “If you insist.”

His eyes quickly shifted toward the box and widened to see the Lady Rose seated with a slouch on the box. “What are you doing here?” he barked out with worry and impatience. He strode forward and took a rough hold of her upper arm. “You shouldn’t be here. You need to leave. Now.”

She peeped as he roughly pulled her to her feet and then took hold of her shoulders to shove her toward the door. “Really, Doctor, is this the way you should treat a girl?”

“However you got here,” he barked out. “Leave the same way.” He gave her a hard look into her eyes. “I don’t want you here.” He then shoved the door closed and gave it a hard pound with the butts of both fists and growled deeply.

“Well I must say,” she muttered with disappointment from his rear. “I imagined you’d be a little more gentle and not so pushy pushy…”

His eyes flashed open and he looked first at the door and then back to her. “How did you get back there?” he stalked forward with a determined march and snapped his hand forward to grab her again.

She pulled back her shoulder so that he grabbed at air and clicked her tongue at him. “It really would be best if you stopped trying to clutch and grab with those grubby hands of yours,” she warned him with a dark look. “Aside from the fact I don’t consent at all to this level of manhandling – or touching of any kind, thank you…” She looked at her fingernails. “It is really a pointless effort on your part.” Her eyes lifted to his. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You need to get up from that box,” he warned her. “Lady Rose, that’s a dangerous weapon, not a chair for you to seat yourself on.”

She shot up to a stand and was in front of him with far more speed than should have been capable for a human. “I know,” she breathed out with an excited lift in her shoulders and a flare of thrill in her eyes. “So very powerful.” She stepped back and held open her arms in presentation of herself. “And quite beautiful too, wouldn’t you say?”

His eyes narrowed as he contemplated the woman in front of him. 

“I would hope you agree with that. After all I very specifically chose this form,” she continued with a twirl in the dirt and a swish of her skirt. “Just for you.”

Realisation dawned and his confusion for how Lady Rose had appeared in the barn was now replaced by question as to just who this woman really was. Oh, he had a fair idea of course. She was the avatar, the interface of the weapon that sat on the ground to the right of them both. A consciousness that was obviously pulling images from his mind to stand before him.

Still. He’d best give her the chance to explain herself anyway. Perhaps that would give him time to work out just how to get rid of her so he could wield the damn thing and end the war like he wanted to.

“Who are you?” he asked gruffly, his chin lifting to show arrogance. “Why are you here?”

She hummed and lifted her eyes as though contemplating the question. Her eyes fell back to his and she looked at him with a curious tilt in her head. “Who do you think I am?”

“I don’t have time for these games,” he growled out angrily. 

“You have all the time in the universe,” she corrected with a smile and a look around her. “Lots of time. Plenty of time.” Her brows pulled together. “Or is it no time?” She looked at one hand and then the other, tilting them as though they were scales. “Lots of time. Out of time. It’s all subjective, I suppose.”

“Not at all subjective,” the Doctor corrected her. “Of all the things in the universe the least subjective thing is time.”

“You might think so,” she said with a sigh and a shrug. “But when you have control over it like I do…” she held up her palm and a thin tendril of amber energy swirled up into the air. She looked around it toward him. “Well. Its no longer a defined construct, is it?” She nodded to the doorway. “Right now, out there, the war has stopped. Hearts have stopped. Noone is breathing. Your people are caught mid-scream.”

“What have you done?” he demanded hotly. 

“They’re all set on pause,” she answered with apparent boredom. “Held in what you call stasis, I suppose, just waiting for you to make a decision.”

“I’ve already made it,” he gruffed.

“Have you?” she asked with a coy smile. “Have you _really_?”

“I have,” he confirmed sharply. “I’ve thought long and very hard about this…”

“Oh, I know,’ she purred as she walked around him, her fingers dancing across his chest. “I heard you.”

He offered her a glare, but said nothing. He didn’t even shift or react to her touch.

“But thinking and actually coming to a very real and tangible decision?” She shook her head. “Although.” She swept her hand through her hair to push it over her shoulder and gave him a look of curiosity. “This _No more_ I keep hearing you think. Is that you coming to your final decision?”

“What else would it be?” he snapped. “Of course it is.”

“Ahh,” she breathed out through an open mouth. “I see. I expected it to be more along the lines of: _That’s it, decision made. I’m going to wield the most dangerous weapon in all creation, destroy my planet, commit genocide. Nothing’s going to change my mind on that_.” She looked at him with question. “But I hear no such definition of your decision, Doctor. Instead I hear indecision and pain, like you’re only a heartsbeat away from changing your mind.”

“I’m not going to change my mind,’ he stated firmly, his chin lifting again with forced arrogance.

She hummed and lifted her chin to mirror his arrogant posture. “I’m really not quite convinced bout that.”

“I really don’t care whether you’re convinced or not,” he snapped sharply. “My plans today did not include having to try and convince a .. I’m sorry, what are you?”

“Not a what,” she answered with a sneer of offence and a shake of her head. “But a who.”

“Yeah,” he drawled. “I’m quite sure you believe yourself a who over a what.” He pointed to the weapon. “You came from that. You’re most assuredly a what.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” she whispered against his ear. She then pulled back sharply and seemed to reconsider that affirmation a moment. “Well. Not entirely wrong, I suppose. I did come from that little box.” Her eyes shifted from the box to him and then upward. “But I also came from there. From the universe. From the Time Vortex itself. Living. Breathing.” Her lips puckered a moment and she seemed to come to a conclusion she was happy with. “Both a what and a who, then. Oh, how exciting.”

“Then what and who are you?” he asked her.

“I am many things,” she answered him. “You Time Lords have given me many names. I was the Eye of Discord once, then the Galaxy Eater,” she looked down at the box. “And in that form I became the Moment.”

“They are all the same thing,” he gruffed. “You are what you have always been. It doesn’t matter what you’re called. It’s just a name. Names mean nothing.”

“Says the one who refuses to say his,” she interrupted with a hard voice and a dark stare. “It’s the only part of you I can’t see, Doctor. The name you try so hard to keep hidden.” She walked toward a stacked platform of baled hay and leaned her back against it. “The meaning of the name you have now, the fact that you don’t believe you truly are the man worthy of it. I would say that the name is very important, wouldn’t you?”

He gave her a hard stare, one that was actually full of agreement to what she was saying. He held his hand out to her in a request for her to continue. “Then tell me. What is the name you prefer?”

“Bad Wolf,” she answered simply. Her head tilted into a shrug of her shoulders. “In the guise of one who is very special to you. Is. Was. Will be?”

“The Lady Rose,” he said to her with understanding. “In my past, present, and future.”

Her brows lifted at that acknowledgement. “Well, well, well,” she sang out with a tsk in her voice. “Someone’s been a naughty boy, haven’t they?” She lifted a finger and tilted it side to side. “You weren’t supposed to remember the little flower in your life. I took great care in ensuring she was removed from every part of you.” She stepped off the wall of hay and strode toward him, drawing her fingers along the top of a rose-shaped button that had appeared atop a golden stem on the box. “Your mind. Your hearts.” Her eyes lifted to his. “Your soul.”

“Why would you need to do that?”

She huffed out and rolled her eyes as she shook her head. She very deliberately ignored his question as she looked down at the weapon. “I suppose love and all her glory is able to transcend all obstacles in its path.” She eyes shifted to him once more and she smiled. “I did try to hold her in stasis for you – disallow her the ability to ever love again – so that you may one day reunite. When I’m finished with you of course.” She drew in a deep breath and looked back down at the Rose and stroked the glistening petals with a tender touch. “Human hearts are fickle. I would hate for you to show up at her door only to find that her heart no longer beat for you and was given to someone else.”

“A Time Lord’s hearts are just as temperamental,” he argued.

“Apparently not,” she said with a chuckle. 

“They don’t beat for her,” he admitted. “Not now.” He touched his chest between his hearts. “These two hearts inside my chest. They won’t beat for anyone ever again.” He looked at the weapon. “After I do this, I won’t deserve it.”

“If that’s how you feel,” she answered flippantly. “If you’re absolutely certain that you will never fall in love again…”

“I am,” he clarified with a sniff. “After this. After I do this, they’ll be numb. Unable to beat or to feel.”

“Then that’ll be your consequence, won’t it?” 

“My what?”

She huffed a heavy breath. “Tender hearts,” she answered softly with a point toward his chest. “They will feel everything. Amplify every emotion you could possibly experience. Pains and heartsache like you’ve never known before.” She nodded, a decision made and accepted in her mind. “Yes. That works. Perfect punishment.”

“I’m killing my kind, and destroying my planet,” he huffed. “There can’t be a greater pain than that.”

“One would think so, wouldn’t one?” she said with a shrug. “But who knows?”

“Now will you please move out of my way?” he demanded with a gruff as he used his forearm to push her out of the way. “We’ve talked enough about this.”

“How many do you think?” she asked when he set his hand on top of the Rose.

“How many what?” he asked with clear impatience.

“Children,” she answered. “How many of them are on Gallifrey right now?” She swept her hair over her shoulder and walked to the weapon to stand on the opposite side of him. She lifted a foot to stand it on the weapon’s edge and leaned down with her elbows on her knees. “There are millions of Daleks here. Millions upon millions of them waiting in their ships to fire upon the planet’s surface. But how many children, how many innocent lives?”

“Don’t,” he pleaded with a shake in his head. “Don’t make me think of that.”

“Take a moment to count,” she advised him with a smile. “Go on. Think it over. So many precious lives that deserve to shine on, not be burned alive.”

“It has to be done,” he breathed out with indecision. “This can’t go on Miss Wolf. This has to stop.”

“Would you like to see?” she asked after a moment. Her voice soft. “See who you become if you do this? I can show you.” She gave him a wink and a smile of urging. “Come on. Aren’t you at least a little curious?”

To the side of them, a swirling whirlpool of energy loudly crackled into existence. The edges sparked and spluttered as the centre opened to reveal a spinning vortex.

“What’s that?” the Doctor asked with flick of his head from it toward her. “Is that a Time Window?”

She levered herself up to a stand and rubbed at her thighs. “I’m opening windows into your future, toward very specific points. I’m creating a tangle of time to show you what your decision today shapes the man you become in your future.”

“Is this necessary?” he asked her tiredly.

“You need to know,” she warned him. “Before you push that big red button, you need to see what you become as a result.”

“Will you also show me what I become if I don’t?” he asked with indignance.

She shook her head. “No. Because there is no future if you don’t.”

“Then this is a very pointless exercise, isn’t it?” he barked out angrily. 

Her voice fell to a whisper. “You’d be very surprised, Doctor. How about you humour me on this. Just a moment. A fraction of time.” She held her thumb and finger closely together. “A little bit. Tiny.”

The both of them jumped back with shock as a bright red felt object dropped out of the fissure and fell with a light flapping thud to the ground. The Doctor crouched to pick it up, curiously identifying an old Fez cap. He looked to the Bad Wolf with an expression of utter incredulity and confusion.

“Well,” she muttered to herself. “I can’t say I expected that.”

~~oooOOOooo~~


	86. Picked Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> UNIT picks up the TARDIS and the Doctor learns about a wife in the Royal house

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, got another chapter in today. Whoot Whoot! This double-up should make up for a lack of chapter tomorrow as it is Sunday, and we all know there's no writing on a Sunday. I mean, I could probably just wait and post it tomorrow, but nah.... No laptop at all tomorrow.
> 
> I chose not to go with Rose (I know some of you hoped) and opted to go with Jack, instead. I think he's a far better option for this arc. 
> 
> Again, anything you may recognise is probably all Moff. Though, again, I haven't looked at a transcript of the ep, so it shouldnt' be too much.
> 
> There won't be another chapter today. I've pulled out 7k words today ... I think that's good, yeah?
> 
> I hope you enjoy! See you Monday.

~~oooOOOooo~~

The Doctor stepped back on board his TARDIS with a smile on his face and a lick at his lips. He ran his hand over his shortly cropped hair and contemplated just what he intended to do over the next few hours while Rose spent some quality time with her mother. While the thought of Jackie Tyler wasn’t the type to put a smile on his face, the taste of Rose Tyler on his lips and the smell of her perfume on his jacket could always keep one there.

“Phew,” Jack Harkness breathed out with appreciation and a little bit of heat along the exhale. “Now that’s what I call a snog of absolute and undeniable possessiveness.”

The Doctor paused halfway up the ramp toward the console. His smile fell toward a scowl of annoyance when he saw Jack lounging with easy laziness against a coral strut. “Don’t you have anything better to do?” he asked. “Like, oh, I don’t know, not spying on Rose’n me.”

His brows lifted and he smirked. There was a wink in his eye. “What can I say? I live vicariously through the two of you when that randy part of you emerges to pounce on Rose…”

“Time Lords don’t get randy,” he argued with a shake of his head. He resumed his stalk up the ramp and gave Jack a hard glare as he passed. “Now if you don’t mind. Could you stop disrespectin’ the TARDIS and stand up straight? She doesn’t need you lounging all over her like that.”

Jack pulled himself up as ordered. He tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his trousers and jogged to catch up with the Doctor’s stalk up the ramp. “Not randy? Then what do you call what I just saw you do with Rose up against the TARDIS doors just now.” He leaned his hip on the edge of the console and let out a yelping laugh when the Doctor gave him a rough shove and muttered about not telling him again to stop lounging on parts of the TARDIS. “Not quite sure how I’m being any more disrespectful to her than you were.”

“My TARDIS, my rules,” he answered simply. He shielded his smile as he looked down at the console and flipped up a switch to engage the ship’s perception filter. “I just gave her a kiss, that’s all. Small thing, that. Just to let her know that I would miss her while she was gone.”

“I’m surprised she left,” he replied with a lift in his brows. “If you kissed me like that, I’d drag you off somewhere, and…”

“Yeah,” he cut in quickly not to have to hear the rest of that statement. “No real need to expand on that, thanks.” He dropped to a knee and took a look up at the underneath of the console. “The old girl’s Psycho-Telemeter seems to be glitching. We shouldn’t have ended up on the southern continent of Fraweena on our last trip. She should have taken us North instead.”

Jack crouched at his side. “Think I can give you a hand with that,” he offered. “Had a hand in a repair back on Earth in the 19th.”

“How’d you have a hand in that?” he queried with a frown. “That’s Time Lord technology, not something pretty for the Time Agents to be messin’ about with.” He lowered down onto his knees and rolled to lie on his back. “And I don’t want you to be regalin’ me with anything that involves you getting naked with a Time Lord.”

“Lady, actually,” he quipped. His eyes widened at the sharp glare he received from the Doctor.

“I thought I said I didn’t want to hear it.”

“Best you don’t ask then,” he said with a smirk. “Especially don’t ask me _who_ it was.” He pursed his lips with awed remembrance. “But I will say: _What_ a night.”

Curiosity did tickle at the Doctor’s mind at the implication that this may have been a Time Lady he knew. The list of those he actually might have cared a whiff about was quite small. Did he really want to press on with this – no doubt at all in his mind that Jack would happily talk about it.

There was a sudden shake of the entire console room, a pitch and a volley that had both men roll uncomfortably into each other. Normally, the predicament they ended up in, face to face with legs tangled, might draw a cheeky remark from the Time Agent. This moment, however, had the both of them look at each other with very shocked expressions of alarm.

“I’ll check the door,” the Doctor growled out with a huff.

“I’ll check the security feed,” Jack answered at the same moment.

They parted with incredible speed and leapt toward their intended modes of investigation. The Doctor threw open the TARDIS doors with enough forward momentum to drive him through and onto the street. He stumbled at the very lip of the door and had to snap his arms outward to clutch at the door to prevent himself falling out and onto the streets of London … that should not have been so far below them.

“We’re in flight,” Jack remarked with surprise from the console.

“Thanks for that unhelpful bit of information,” the Doctor growled in reply. “Already worked that out, thanks.” He leaned out of the door and looked at the ground. “It might be more helpful if you let me know just how we’re in flight.” 

“Definitely not at the TARDIS’ hand, Doc.”

“Again with what I already know,” the Doctor snapped. 

“Well if you want to be that way,” Jack growled with his own frustration. “As we’re obviously tethered to something, why don’t you just, you know, look up and see for yourself?”

The Doctor leaned out a little further through the doors and twisted awkwardly to look upward. Overhead he could see the nose and spinning rotor blades of a large Military helicopter. Another look revealed a thick clamp affixed to the lip of the TARDIS roof and Police Box sign. 

“What in Rassilon?” He shoved himself back into the TARDIS. He left the front doors open and stalked toward the console. He pointed at Jack. “Looks like a Unit pickup. Got us hanging from a soddin’ helicopter. Get the Brigadier on the phone.”

“This thing has a phone?”

“The TARDIS is a technologically advanced ship that can fly through all space and time,” he huffed. “Of course there’s a phone.” He puckered his lips and looked over the console. “I’m just not entirely sure where it is.”

As if by command, the hollow ring of an old dial-tone telephone sounded out shrilly from underneath a stack of papers and post-it notes. The Doctor swatted everything off the top of a receiver that sat in a cradle next to the keyboard. He pressed a button that sat at its side to open up the line via speaker.

“Make it quick,” he barked out without formality. “I’m busy right now.”

A female voice spoke through the line, distorted somewhat over the line, but pleasant nonetheless. “Hello Doctor,” she answered. “This is Kate Lethbridge Stewart. I believe you know my father.”

“Yes, yes,” he snapped out. “Hello. Nice to meet you.” He pressed his hands into the console edge. “Tell me Kate, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about my TARDIS being stolen by Helicopter, do you?”

“Yes,” she answered. “That’s why I’m calling you. We found it in the Estates and are having it brought in for you.”

“Really?” he asked flatly. “And tell me. Why would you think you’d need to do that?”

“Well it isn’t the safest of areas, Doctor, so we thought…”

“No you didn’t _think_ anything,” he snapped. “You just saw my TARDIS and decided that you know better than the Time Lord who piloted it where it needs to be parked. Am I right?” He huffed. “A parking ticket would have been preferred, thanks. Keep that in mind for next time.”

“You’re onboard, aren’t you?” she asked with a wince that was heard down the phone.

“I think the fact I answered the call you put through _to my TARDIS_ would probably answer the question of whether or not I am on board it, wouldn’t you?” He lowered his head and rubbed at his brows. “Is there a very particular reason you decided that today – unlike any other when I’m parked on the Estates on a bi-weekly basis – you would try for my attention with the theft of my ship?”

“There is,” she admitted. “I’ll have you brought directly here.” There was a sigh. “And for what it’s worth, Doctor. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure you are,” he huffed as he flicked off the connection. Although he projected annoyance, he did share a smile with Jack. “Looks like the question we had of what we were going to do over the next few hours while Rose’s gasbaggin’ with her mum has been answered.”

“Looks like it,” he answered with a waggle in his brow. “So who’s Kate Lethbridge Stewart, anyway?”

“Dunno,” he answered with a shrug. “Never met her.” He wiped his hands on his thighs and gave a wide grin. “Which makes this very interesting, doesn’t it?”

Jack leaned on the console and folded his arms across his chest. There was amusement dancing in his eyes. “Because a lift by Helicopter wasn’t interesting enough?”

“Annoying more like,” he said with a huff as he felt the TARDIS touch down on the ground. “If there’s one scratch on her…” He stopped at the sound of scurrying and movement at the front door. He lightly slapped Jack on the chest with the back of his hand. “Well. Come on, then. Let’s see what was so important they couldn’t knock on the front door.”

The Doctor led Jack toward the front doors of the ship. He wasn’t surprised, but was annoyed, to find two lines of soldiers dressed in black and carrying large firearms outside to form a line-guard toward the woman he assumed was Kate Lethbridge Stewart. He flinched at the hard sound of the entire line of them snapping to attention to give him a salute.

“Enough of the salutin’,” he muttered to himself. He looked at them with a look of annoyance when no salute was dropped. “Well?” he barked out with a shrug toward them all. He waved a hand at them “At ease, relax, whatever. Just stop with the salutin’, yeah?”

“Ahhhh,” Jack sang at his side. “Come on, Doc. Revel in the respect for one, will you?”

The Doctor walked toward Kate with a slightly casual gait. There was a pinch in his eye, but he didn’t appear to want to be completely intimidating – at least not quite yet. She held her hand out to him and offered a smile. “Doctor, as Chief Scientific Officer, may I extend the apologies of UNIT.”

He didn’t take her hand. Instead he held his hand behind him to gesture toward his TARDIS. “Word to the wise, Kate Lethbridge Stewart. Doesn’t matter what your credentials. That’s one woman that doesn’t like to be picked up.”

“Trust me,” Jack said with a sigh. “I’ve tried.” He held his hand out to her. “Captain Jack Harkness,” he greeted. He dipped his head to kiss her knuckles. He looked up through his brows. “It’s an absolute pleasure.”

The Doctor leaned down to match Jack’s stoop and to speak in his ear. “I’m probably guessin’ that this one doesn’t want to be picked up, either, Captain.”

“You never know,” he answered with a wink at her. “If you don’t give it the old college try.”

“Flattered,” she said with a one-sided smirk that was more polite than intrigued. “But no thank you.” She looked at the Doctor. “I’ve been tasked with orders that come directly from the throne.” She held out an envelope that while pristine and mint in condition was obviously from a different century. “Sealed orders from her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth the First.”

Both the Doctor and Jack responded to that with wide eyes of surprise. The Doctor took the letter and slowly shifted the envelope this way and that, back to front, unsure of whether or not to actually open it. Jack looked over his arm at the envelope as well. His eyes shifted to Kate. “The current Queen’s the second Elizabeth, isn’t she?”

Kate nodded. “This is from Elizabeth the First,” she repeated. “Come with me, her credentials are inside.”

The Doctor was officially intrigued and looked at Jack with an expression of excited discovery. He slipped his finger underneath the flap of the envelope to break the seal. He was stopped by Kate, which clicked her tongue and then shook her head. “not here,” she warned him. “Inside.”

“It’s a letter for me,” he remarked with his finger still under the flap. “Should be able to read it when I want to, yeah?”

“Inside,” she repeated. “In the National Gallery. There’s something else you need to see first.”

The Doctor shrugged and shared a smile and a curious lift of his brows with Jack. He pocketed the letter in his jacket pocket and walked behind Kate. He noticed the long length of scarf on a lab technician as he passed and offered her a nod. “Nice scarf.”

“So?” Jack sang curiously. “Elizabeth the first, eh?”

“It would seem so.”

“How do you know old Bess?” He grinned. “Better yet, how well do you know her.” His face straightened. “Actually no. Already know her rep. You haven’t got any exciting tales to tell me.”

“Wouldn’t tell you even if I did,” he said with a sniff. “But as it goes right now, I don’t even have an unremarkable non-harkness approved tale of meeting to share. Far as I know, we’ve never met.”

“Oh,” Jack chuckled low. “Future incarnation, then. Well, this just got interesting, didn’t it?” He jutted his chin upward. “So who are these people anyway? Why do they think they can push you around?”

“UNIT,” the Doctor answered. He slipped his hands into his jacket pockets. “Short for United Intelligence Task Force. They investigate and go after alien stuff.”

“They know you’re one, right?” Jack asked curiously.

He shrugged. “Yeah. As to why they think they can order me around. Simple. I work for them.”

“Oh you do not,” Jack answered with a laugh as the two of them stepped in through he doors of the gallery. “You? With a job. A real job, where you have to do as your told?”

The Doctor couldn’t help but chuckle quietly to himself. “What gives you the impression I do as I’m told?”

“The fact you didn’t open the letter because she told you not to,” he answered with a jut of his chin up toward the back of Kate’s head. “And that we’re now following behind her like a pair of puppies looking for a scrap of food.”

He had an answer all prepared against that, but it was held inside his throat as a cloth was removed from a large frame. His jaw dropped at the sight of a magnificent 3D image of Gallifrey’s mighty domed citadel under attack.

“Elizabeth’s credentials,” Kate announced with a smile of pride and a definite posture of ta-da.

Jack felt immediate panic in the presence of the picture. This was obviously a graphic image produced at the end of the Time War, by Gallifreyan artists. This did not belong in this time, nor on this planet. It certainly didn’t belong within eyesight of a man still recovering from the war.

“It’s called Gallifrey Falls,” Kate half announced.

The Doctor’s voice was low and dark. “I know what it’s called,” he drawled almost dangerously. “I also know what it depicts.” He shifted his eyes to hers. “Do you?”

“I have to admit that I don’t,” she said with a slight pinch in her brow.

“Then it doesn’t belong here,” the Doctor snarled. “Not in this place, not in this time, not in the face of people who have no idea what they’re even looking at.”

“Arcadia,” Jack said at his side.

“Gallifrey’s second city,” the Doctor said with a nod. “This is the fall of Arcadia. A day and a battle seared in my memory.” He panted and looked to Kate. “I was there. In the front lines of this battle. I fought alongside good men and women, all of us powerless to stop the advance of the Daleks.” He blew out a breath and lowered his head. His eyes closed sadly. “This was the day it ended. When I ended it all.”

“Oh shit, Doc,” Jack said apologetically.

The Doctor opened his eyes and looked at the painting. “I’m both offended and disgusted that this is here.”

“Which means it won’t be for much longer,” Jack warned her. “This belongs in the Braxiatel Collection, not hidden in dungeons of a London Gallery.”

“The Braxiatel Collection doesn’t exist anymore,” the Doctor said though the side of his mouth. “Lost in the War.”

“Actually it did survive,” Jack corrected him. “It was moved out of Kasterborous centuries ago. Perfectly intact.”

“Great,” he said with a smile and a clap of his hands. “Then that means I’ll be taking this off your hands, then. As the only surviving rH

elative of the late Irving Braxiatel, looks like I’m the sole beneficiary of the entire collection.”

“The painting only serves as credentials for Her Royal Highness as proof that letter is from her,” Kate said impatiently. “You can do with the painting what you want to. It means nothing to any of us, and we certainly can’t display it anywhere.”

“It means a lot to me,” the Doctor said deeply.

“And so it’s yours,” she affirmed. “But for now, please read the letter. It’s why we brought you here..”

“Ah yes,” the Doctor said with a nod. He leaned forward as he drew the letter form his pocket and watched the painting as it seemed to move with him. “The letter. Once I’ve read it you will arrange to have this painting transporte _d inside my TARDIS.”_

He read it out loud, mainly for Jack to hear, but didn’t consider the flapping ears of everyone else to be listening in as well.

_My dearest love,_

_I hope this painting known as Gallifrey Falls will serve as proof that it is Elizabeth who writes to you now. You will recall that you pledged yourself to the safety of my kingdom. In this capacity I have appointed you as curator of the Under Gallery, where deadly danger to England is locked away. Should any disturbance occur within its walls, it is my wish that you be summoned._

_God speed, gentle Husband._

Jack’s eyes blew wide. “Did she just call you her _husband_?”

“Ehm. It appears so,” the Doctor answered with a pinch in his brow and a confused expression on his face. 

Jack snatched the letter from his hands and looked it over himself. He read it with a whisper as the Doctor spoke again with Kate.

“So what happened, then?” he asked, his curiosity ramping up a few levels.

“It’s best I show you,” she said with a turn. Once again she chose to walk without first checking to see if they were following her. “Right this way.”

“Yeah,” he drawled with a sigh. “Of course. Can’t have everything in one place, yeah.”

“Man,” Jack muttered with a shake in his head. “Good thing Rose isn’t here, Doc. She’d flip hearing about a hidden wife.” He snickered. “Jealous little thing she is, she’d probably steal the TARDIS, head back to Elizabeth England and take out the Queen.”

“I’d believe you,” he began. “And might actually be worried she’d do it if I wasn’t absolutely sure she didn’t know how to pilot the old girl.”

The pair of them chuckled at the notion. A joke they absolutely wouldn’t be sharing with Rose Tyler once they were all reunited back at the Estates.

Jack’s amusement fled, however, and he did fall to seriousness. “So, are you sure you don’t know old Bess, Doc?”

They both stopped at the face of a painting of Elizabeth the First and her Gentle Husband. The Doctor’s eyes were wide and he tipped his head to one side. Jack watched the change in the Doctor’s expression that projected without a doubt that he had never seen this man before. “A future incarnation, Doc?” He folded his arms across his chest and appraised the image of the future Doctor. “I have to say, Doc. You end up very pretty on a next go around. I approve.”

“Oh I hope not,” he said with real disappointment. “Regenerating into a pretty boy like that? Rassilon help me.”

~~oooOOOooo~~


	87. Marriage Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten plays a stupid game...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting our players in place here...
> 
> Now. I really, really, didn't like the whole romantic angle that the Moff decided to take with this... Yet another strong and brilliant historical female reduced to the pathetic dribbling on her shirt lovesick for the Doctor type of girl at the hands of Moffat and his the-Doctor-is-a-powerful-God mindset. 
> 
> Soooooo... As I'm not having it. I changed it up a bit. Won't get into it here, but I played with how that played out. Hope the changes are well received.
> 
> If you're wondering about the content of the letter? Well. I'm not done yet. Got a plan.
> 
> I do hope you like this.

~~oooOOOooo~~

The cool winds of a December breeze blustered underneath the flare of his long coat, billowing it out like a cape behind him. The wind had a decent bite to it, although it was unfelt by the Time Lord standing at the door of his time ship. This gust represented the twelfth such blast in the twenty-five minutes he’d stood in place in wait for Donna to finish up settling her Grandfather comfortably in their family home.

He should have focused upon her home. Should have gone in with her to make sure old Wilf was okay. But as he caught sight of the home next door and let the knowledge that his family were just a wooden door away from him, he felt himself caught in place an unable to move. The human part of him – the hurting husband and father part of him – wanted to run inside with his Sonic Screwdriver held out in front of him to unlock the doors and allow him unhindered access inside. He wanted to embrace his wife and children, hold them to him, and never let them go again. He wanted to whisper in their ears and vow to them with all the fierceness he had inside him that there would be nothing that would ever separate them ever again...

…But then that Time Lord part of him tapped him on his shoulder with a cluck in his tongue and a shake in his head to remind the man that now was not the time to be a selfish git. The winds of December carried along with them a warning and a reminder that he still had things to do before he could take his family inside his pinstriped arms and reaffirm his vow of forever.

…But not too long now.

And so instead of rushing toward the home, he remained standing beside the doors of the TARDIS, his hands inside his trouser pockets and his eyes locked on the white wooden door that stood as the barrier between heartbreak and happiness. He held his shoulders high in as proud a posture as was possible and even had a slight tilt in his head so that he had to view the residence down along the bridge of his nose.

A crack of white lightning overhead lit his TARDIS and the street as though it was day, and he actually gave the slightest of flinches at the resounding crack and rumble that followed the light. His flinch was perfectly timed with the exit of his brother from the house though the front door. Although he walked with a relatively confident gait, spinning a set of car keys on his finger, it was clear to the Doctor that Braxiatel was in a state of extreme upset. Neither of the two of them could ever hide the intensity of emotion from the other. He didn’t need to feel it though the familial bond sharing their emotion to know it. The Doctor had grown up with the man, from scared loomlings to struggling adolescents and then through to adults shifting along different paths of life, he could read his brother like a tag-eared worn novel….

…And the tale he read in the seat of his brother’s shoulders right now told the Doctor that Braxiatel was preparing to run. He was leaving the house now and wasn’t planning to return any time soon.

“Don’t leave them,” he whispered across the empty space between them. “Not yet.”

Braxiatel’s eyes lifted and looked toward his brother across the street and three houses away. When the Doctor’s shoulders flinched to suggest that he was ready to break position and walk toward him, Braxiatel gave the tightest shake of his head in warning for him to stay away. He held up his hand with a flattened palm. The Doctor’s eyes fell to the thick keyfob that hung from his middle finger to seat itself on that palm as though it held some form of vital importance to his message. It didn’t, of course, but it was enough of a distraction to hold him in place.

His eyes then flicked toward the door as Sarah Jane Smith exited the house behind him. She was hurried as she turned to close the door behind her and didn’t bother looking in his direction at all. She looked to Braxiatel with a concerned but friendly smile. She petted his arm gently and walked toward a cherry red Ford Explorer parked on the street. She climbed into the passenger seat, while Braxiatel walked around the car to open the door on the driver’s side. He paused only to shoot one last look toward the Doctor. He gave a single nod of his head, and then climbed into the vehicle.

The Doctor sank into his own shoulders at the sound of the car starting up with the power of 400 horses underneath the bonnet. Braxiatel didn’t look up at him again as he turned the wheel and stepped hard on the accelerator. There was a roar in the engine, and the sport SUV sped by him with a shrill whir of twin turbos adding a kick of juice to the 6 cylinders already powering the car.

“By the Gods,” the Doctor muttered to himself at the gust of breeze kicked up from the vehicle’s wake. His eyes were locked on the red lights from braking at the corner of the street. “Don’t kill her, Brax.”

“Who are you talking to?” Donna asked curiously as she suddenly appeared at his side.

He shifted his eyes to her and shrugged. There was no real emotion in his face. “Oh. Noone,” he answered. 

“Talking to yourself, then?”

He gave her a smile. “I prefer to call it talking to an expert, Donna. But yes, I suppose you could say that.”

She stood at his side and looked toward Rose’s house. “Are you going in?”

His answer was swift and flat. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“No,” he sighed. “I’m not. Not in the slightest. Which is why I can’t.” His eyes flicked back to the door of Rose’s home. “When, and it _will_ be a when, Donna Noble, because there is no _if_ on that. _When_ I return to my family it’ll be when I have no question in my mind at all that it’s where I need to be.”

“And you don’t feel that now?” she asked with a crease of confusion on one side of her face. 

“No, I don’t,” he admitted. He breathed out a strong blast of breath through his nose. “ _Well_ , yes. Yes I do. Of course I do. They’re my family.” He swallowed and gestured to the home with a tilt of his chin. “I _created_ that family.”

“Then where’s your doubt coming from?”

“Because neither of us are ready,” he answered with a sigh. “Rose isn’t ready, and neither am I. So to go back right now, when emotions are so, so high, and to try to be together when we really aren’t ready for it …” he let out an almost defeated sigh and dropped his head to watch his foot shuffle unsurely on the road. “It could end up worse than the two of us being separated for the rest of our lives.”

“You’re making no sense,” she huffed with a shake in her head. “You made that family. You said so yourself. If you weren’t ready then…”

“I was though,” he answered her with a firm look. “Back then. Back when I wore a different face. I was ready for it. So ready for it. Rassilon, Donna, I _hungered_ it.”

“Yeah, you might want to stop with your whole Rassilon is your God thing, Doctor,” she huffed. “Met him. Not a real nice person, him. Not real happy being in the same sentence as him, thanks.” Her voice softened. “How can you say that you’re not ready now?”

“Because I was the man she walked away from,” he admitted. “She left me, _this_ me, because I …” He let out a breath. “I don’t know. I just didn’t treat her right at the time. I wanted to. I wanted to love her as deeply and as passionately as the man before me did…”

“Don’t need that particular image.” She said with a slight wince.

“Oh but I do,” he sang out. He petted his chest between his hearts. “I need that image, and I need to be that man for her again, because he loved her unreservedly, fiercely, enough that she was willing to die for him.” He looked at her. “Right now, I don’t think I’m that man. I need to _remember_ how to be that man.”

She rubbed his arm and gave him a smile. “You were him once, Doctor. You can be him again.”

He looked back to the house. “Gods, I hope so. Because, Donna, I need them. I’m a better man when I’m with her, and it scares me who I can become – who I am becoming – without her holding my hand and my hearts.”

“I can see her influence,” she said with a soft sigh and a look toward the home.

“How do you mean?”

“The only time you ever seem to open up and show that you have real flaws and real emotions just like the rest of us…” She turned to him. “Is when you’re thinking of her.” She then shrugged and her eyes rolled. “The rest of the time you’re just a self-righteous pompous git who thinks that you’re better than the rest of us.”

“Probably because I am,” he said with a grin. His head shot upward at the light atop his TARDIS when the old girl gave a groan for his attention. “Oh. Hold on a minute.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Temporal alarm clock?” he questioned with a twitch in his brow. “What are you alerting me to, dear?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh,” he sang out. “Calendar reminder from the TARDIS. It appears I have a meeting request of sorts. Something put on my schedule some time ago.” He gave her a smile of intrigue. “Up for a trip?”

Donna held up her hand. “Yeah, always, but. But are you telling me that the TARDIS handles your calendar and actually schedules things like … like an Administrative Assistant.”

He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Well. Not really. She is a time machine, after all, which means scheduling very specific things is pointless.” He poked out his bottom lip and looked up at the Police sign. “But once in a while something does crop up that I have to address at a very specific part of my timeline. Not often, mind, but it does happen.” He swallowed. “And this beautiful ship of mine does have to remind me about those items.”

“What, you’re brilliant Time Lord mind isn’t capable of remembering it?”

He shrugged. “Guess not.” He pushed at the door to open it for Donna. “So, do you want to find out what it is I don’t remember but is important enough for the TARDIS to give me a poke?”

She walked in ahead of him. “If you’re sure, then sure.”

He took one last look at the house, and at the front door. He let out a breath and dipped his head downward. “Soon,” he promised himself. “Just a little while longer…”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Donna leaned her back up against the gnarled and thick trunk of a Willow tree that sat just within the thickets that bordered an open field. Her breath was short and her head in a slight swirl from the tight grasp of the bodice she had tied around her chest. More than once she grit her teeth and tugged at the rigid garment in an attempt to draw in a deeper breath.

“Damn thing’s as bad as having a mammogram,” she muttered darkly with her third adjustment in an as many minutes. “Squash them flat and cut them in half.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t have fastened your ties so tightly,” a woman commented at her side. “While a tight bodice to create the perfect swell of the bosom is the preferred effect, it’s by no means mandatory.”

“You know,” Donna gruffed. “Has anyone ever thought to consider boobs when designing clothes in this era?” She reached around behind herself to try and loosen the ties at the back of the bodice. She grunted when realizing she couldn’t quite reach. “Your Majesty,” she muttered finally. “I know it’s a bit low on the paygrade for someone like you, but would you mind?”

“I really don’t know understand a lot of what you say,” the Queen said with a light shake in her head. “Or why you even say what you do, but yes. I can assist.” She looked across the clearing. “If only because you are working alongside the Doctor to help my people.”

“Not because you might like me or anything like that,” she muttered under her breath as she was forcibly turned by the monarch so that she could access the back of her outfit.

“My liking someone is irrelevant,” the Queen noted with a light huff. “We’ve only just met, and you are at my side now only due to the rather ominous ranting of your friend that my kingdom is in danger.” Her eyes shifted over Donna’s shoulder toward the clearing, where the Doctor was lazing on a set of opulent cushions and blankets underneath a tend flying her royal pennant. “Had I not seen the evidence for myself that supported his ranting and raving, I would have had him gaoled for his lunacy.”

“You can still do that,” Donna offered, finally able to draw in a deeper breath as the garment’s hold released. “Because he’s the very definition of a lunatic at times.”

“We shall see where his lunacy takes us first,” she said with darkness in her voice as she finished loosening Donna’s bodice and stepped to her side. “Witchcraft and magic of which he describes are forces used by the Devil – not mortal man.”

“Hardly mortal, and hardly a man,” Donna quipped. “And definitely not the Devil.”

“I’ll decide that on my own,” she warned. “At which time the fate of you both will be determined.”

“Yeah,” she drawled. “You sure you’re not the Zygon?”

“I most certainly am not,’ she clarified with disgust. She then narrowed her eyes into the distance and the perfect replica of herself engaging in romantic behaviour with the skinny malnutritioned man in the field. “If the Doctor’s warning that the reach of these repugnant creatures was so vast, I’d take her head off right now without thought.” She shook her head. “And while it is necessary for this manner to be utilised to prove the lie, I don’t understand at all.”

Donna looked ahead herself and felt anger of her own at the casual, easy, familiar way he romanced the Queen’s replica. “I have no idea, myself.” She huffed out. “but apparently he thinks he does.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

The sun was bright and the light breeze warm as the Doctor lazed back on high stack of luxurious pillows against his back. He was thankful for their heavy stuffing that kept his back upright and somewhat comfortable in this rather unfortunate and uncomfortable position he had put himself in. He couldn’t recall any time in any of his lives that he had a woman’s head laid in his lap while he tenderly fed her grapes and small pieces of fruit from a large golden bowl at his side.

His mind wasn’t as focused on the task as it might usually have been. There was a tingle in his mind and a worrying weight in his chest that warned him that a Zygon attack wasn’t all he was going to have to face today. The winds across the field carried far more than the dusty dirty scents of the moors. He could smell the presence of time and the metallic twang of an approaching timeline collision …

…And he didn’t like it. Didn’t like it one bit. Something significant was on approach, something more significant than Zygons wanting to usurp the throne of England to mould the dominion of the United Kingdom into a safe haven for their people to slowly take over the Earth.

Whatever was on approach, it was big. Again, he didn’t like it one bit.

“My love,” the Queen cooed adoringly from her place in his lap. “Are you listening to me?”

He internally shook himself and looked down at her with a soft smile on his face. “I’m sorry, your Majesty. My mind was elsewhere.”

“I would take offence to that,” she remarked with mock offence. “But a mind like yours, it’s a wanderer, isn’t it? Much like the rest of you.” She drew her fingertips along his jaw. “Tell me why it is you wander, Doctor.”

“I haven’t had a reason to stop,” he said with a smile. “No roots to tie me down.”

“No home?” she asked.

“Long gone,” he said along his breath. His brows lifted and his focus fell off her to look at nothing. His voice was quiet. “Everything’s gone now.” His head shook lightly, his focus still on absolutely nothing. “All of it.”

“You have me,” she offered.

His eyes immediately snapped toward focus at those words – a promise made to him so long ago now by someone who honestly, truly, and unwaveringly meant it. He forced a smile and plucked a dark purple grape from the bowl. “Do I now?” he asked as he pressed the grape onto her lip. His eyes widened as she wrapped her lips around the small fruit and then sucked it into her mouth with a loud smacking sound. “Oh. My.” He breathed out with a waggle in his brows.

She giggled and swallowed the fruit. Her head rolled off to one side, toward the thicket. “I should not be here,” she admitted. “I have wars to plan, and council meetings to attend.” She looked back at him. “I shouldn’t be wasting my time here with you.”

He gave her a one sided smile, but said nothing. Instead he plucked off another grape.

“Tell me why it is I’m here with you instead of tending to my people.” She lifted her hand to his hand and drew the fruit to her lip. She let her eyes flutter closed and dragged the fruit along her lip before sucking it into her mouth. She spoke as the chewed. “What is it about you, Doctor? Why am I so drawn to you?”

“Hush,” he said. “You have a picnic to eat.”

“You can help me,” she offered with a smile. “At my side. Planning war, and expanding the reach of my reign to the furthest reaches of this planet.”

His eyes flashed just briefly and he reached for another piece of fruit. “And what makes you think that’s something that might interest me, Elizabeth?”

“Wealth and power,” she answered simply. “The desire of all men, isn’t it?”

“Not all of us,” he said. His eyes slid to hers. “I’ve seen my far share of war…”

“I can see that,” she said with a lift of her hand to trace along is sideburn. “It’s clear as day in your face. A soldier with a stomach for war…”

“But not hungry for it,” he clarified. “I got my fill of it, thank you.”

“But this face…”

He captured her hand and held it off his face. “This was not the face that saw war, your Majesty. This is the face that regrets it.”

She lifted herself up to a seat. Her hand was still held firmly inside his and she used the pull of that hand to draw herself close to him. “Are you quite sure about that, Doctor?”

He stared at her with a steeled pair of eyes for a long moment. His teeth grit behind hips lips and his cheek dimpled with their grind. After a quick moment, he let his eyes clear and quickly leapt to his feet. “Oh, enough talking about war and power, Elizabeth. We’ve much better things to talk about right now. So up you get, up on your feet.”

She grunted as she stumbled off his knee. There was a roll on her eye and a smile across her lips as she let him pull her to her feet. There was cheek in her tone. “How dare you,” she warned. “I’m the Queen of England.”

“Good thing I’m not English,” he quipped with a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. He held her hand high and dropped down onto his knee. “Elizabeth,” he announced. “Will you marry me?”

The smile on her face was wide. There was a twinkle in her eye. “Oh yes,” she called out excitedly. “My dear, sweet love, of course I will!”

He prepared to leap back, straighten himself up, and call out Gotcha and begin a rant about how she was not the Queen of England, but was in fact a Zygon, but was held from doing so by a holler of disgust from the ticket. Still on his knees, he flicked a surprised and horrified expression toward the Queen Elizabeth stalking a determined and furious stride toward them – Donna on her heels, picking up her skirts to walk and shooting an apologetic look toward him.

He looked down and shook his head. “Oh, Hell.”

“You will not accept any such proposal on my behalf,” Elizabeth growled with order and disgust toward her replica. “Not even in jest.” She pointed a finger toward the Doctor. “And you! Is this your plan? To take over the throne as King.”

He blinked rapidly and tightly shook his head. “I’m sorry, what? King?”

She set her hands on her hips. Her eyes were alight and hostile. “This I will not allow, _Lord_ Doctor.”

He held up both hands. “Really, your majesty,” he assured her. “That was never my intention. I already have a wife.”

She was absolutely horrified by that admission. “And you would seek to share your affections with another? Is your wife aware of your penchant to stray from your vows?”

“Well no,” he managed with a flap of his mouth. “I mean we aren’t exactly..That is to say. Ehm.” He shook his head. “I was merely trying to prove that this woman was not –”

“I will not listen to excuses,” she demanded with a hot sneer. “This is an abhorrent manner by which to disprove the lie, particularly when there are far more viable and less repugnant ways to prove that this … this _creature_ is not who she claims herself to be.”

“Well, yes,” he agreed with s somewhat chagrined and maybe slightly petulant expression. “Of course there are, but…”

“But what, Doctor?” she demanded. “You feel the most appropriate manner by which to prove who is the real Queen is to use romantic means?” She swept her arm across her. “In the presence of my most trusted confidents and staff to bear witness?”

“Old Bess has a point,” Donna remarked with a fold of her arms across her chest. “Bit of a misogynistic plan there, Doctor.”

He pointed a finger at her. “Chauvenistic, maybe,” he shot back. “But not misogyny. Let’s not confuse the two terms, thank you.” He looked to the Queen, the true Queen. “My apology, your highness, but the fact does remain that this creature pretending to be you has proven herself not to be you.”

“A fact I am quite sure I can disprove on my own,” she growled. She took a fast stride forward, a small dagger in her hand, and launched herself toward the woman who was her double. “I order your execution immediately!” she demanded.

The scuffle that quickly ensued between the two women immediately blurred the confidence that both Donna and the Doctor held as to which woman was the real Queen of England. They twisted and turned in a violent dance for dominance. The dagger was thrown out of the melee, eliminating any definite conclusion as to who was who.

“Elizabeth!” the Doctor called out sharply as he moved in to try and separate them.

“That is _your majesty_ , Doctor,” one of the women growled out hotly.

“You will not be referred to by such a title,” the other snarled in reply. “You are no Queen of England.”

The Doctor managed to get in between the two of them. He hauled them apart and stood at the centre of the two, holding them apart with his outstretched arms.

The two women stalked in a circle around the Doctor, forcing him to remain between them with his arms held out to prevent them getting within their own arm’s reach. “Ladies. Please. That’s just about enough.”

“You will let me defend my face and my honour,” one of the ladies ordered him.

“No,” the other growled. “It is I who needs to defend my face and my honour.” She pointed a sharp finger toward the other woman. “That is the creature, Doctor. And as you assured me that you would protect my throne and my kingdom, I order you to apprehend her.”

“I have to admit to being somewhat impressed,” the other woman said with a dark smile. “That you were able to capture my exact likeness. I would call it exceptional if it weren’t so treasonous.”

The other woman laughed. “Exceptional? A Queen would call it impertinent.”

“A Queen would first feel compelled to admire the skill of execution,” she growled in reply, still walking the circle around an increasingly annoyed Time Lord. “Before she arranges one.”

“Oh this really isn’t going the way I planned,” the Doctor muttered. He continued to walk his own circle at the centre of the two women. “Not at all.”.

Donna sighed and looked at her nails. “Since when does it?”

“Enough from you, Donna,” he huffed. “Now is not the time.”

There was a sudden rise in the hair on his arms and the back of his neck. The Doctor paused walking his circle as the sound of building electricity zapped across the field. There was a pop and a crackle above his head, and then the buffet of swirling winds from above. All four of them looked upward as a dark circular rip in reality opened up above their heads. The Doctor immediately stepped forward and thrust his arms outward with the hope that the three of them would step back behind him.

“Back, all of you,” he demanded hotly. “That’s a time fissure, a rip in very fabric of reality.” He took a stride back, gritting his teeth when he felt both arms push back against at least two of the women. “Dangerous. Very dangerous. Anything can happen.”

A red Fez flopped out noiselessly out of the fissure. The Doctor straightened up with shock and a puzzled expression creased his face. “For instance. A Fez?”

~~oooOOOooo~~


	88. The Under Gallery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nine and Jack check out what's going on in the Under Gallery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things in this episode lacked explanation ... Didn't quite make sense in. Small niggly items, of course, but I figured I'll try to spackle a couple of holes...
> 
> This is just Nine and Jack and some unanswered questions answered, and more posed. I know I don't usually get real in-depth with eps, but this one I'm getting into a bit deeper.... It ends up pretty important to our finale.. 
> 
> I hope you aren't too terribly bored with it. I hope you enjoy....

~~oooOOOooo~~

The Doctor certainly found himself discomforted by the painting of himself with Queen Elizabeth the First. To have commissioned such a piece certainly indicated a partnership of marriage more than it would have mere friendship. He couldn’t recall any other paintings of Good Old Bess that contained another individual. It would be improper for her to commission anything of that nature at all. There would be outrage. Future historians would revel in the scandal. They’d make movies and plays about it…

…Because unless Elizabeth I executed any and all staff who knew of the affair, it _would_ get out. There were far too many vile individuals wanting to usurp her throne for there to be no whispers heard in the hallways of the castle.

So he was stymied about it. Completely and utterly at a loss to even begin to try and wrap his head around it.

More shocking was that it also indicated that his elder self had to have spent a considerable amount of time within the castle in order to even sit for a portrait – they weren’t as easily completed as photograph would have been. No, that would require hours to days of planning, then hours and days of sitting for it.

He looked at his hands for a moment in wonder as to whether or not he may have painted the thing himself. It wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibility, of course. He was a quick enough learner when sitting with the greats … perhaps he took a few courses and did it himself.

“Not in this body,” he huffed to himself as he pocketed his hands into his jacket pockets. “That’s for sure.”

“Just what are you on about, then?” Jack asked with amusement. “What’s not happening in that body?” 

“Not what you’re thinkin’,” he shot back with a small smirk of his own. He’d long ago decided that getting offended by Jack was pointless and simply ran with it. “Even if it was, I wouldn’t tell you about it.”

“The painting is bothering you,” Jack offered with a nod instead. 

“And the lack of mention in the historical records about it,” he added. “Don’t like it, Jack. There are too many questions and nowhere near enough answers for it to make sense.”

“Maybe they could keep a secret back then, Doc,” Jack offered with a shrug. “The Royal House is pretty guarded and like to keep things private.”

He shook his head with tight movements. “No, Jack. Secrets were much harder to keep in Elizabeth’s day than they are now.”

“Which is near impossible,” he breathed out. “Although with some decent spin doctors – oh pardon the pun – and a few conveniently placed conspiracy theorists making the truth sound ridiculous, it’s getting easier to bury the truth inside the lies.”

“Ahhh,” he drawled. “Which means that the truth is very much always out there.” He winked. “If you know where to look, of course. Which I do.”

“Sometimes.”

“All the time,” he corrected. He sniffed in deeply and looked to the front of them, watching the walk of Kate in front of them. “Just because I don’t announce it to you lot doesn’t mean I don’t.”

“Actually it does,” Jack argued with a shrug. “Because you do like to brag about how brilliant you are and really don’t want to miss the opportunity. Hence, there are very many times you don’t have a clue. Like now. Like how you end up in a secret marriage with her Majesty Elizabeth the First – who was supposedly a virgin queen.”

The Doctor cleared his throat against his fist.

“And the proof is in the pudding, Doc. Well, in the Rose at any rate.” He frowned. “And that’s not an entirely pleasant image.” He shook himself. “But from what I know of you when you let yourself be taken by a lover. If you were truly gung-ho about tying the knot with someone, there’d be some quite passionate horseplay happening.”

“Let’s drop the subject, yeah?”

Jack nodded. “For now at any rate. Might want to pick it up again later when we’ve worked this mess out.”

“Yeah, can’t see that happening.”

They all paused for a moment when Kate turned around to address them. If she’d heard any part of their conversation, she didn’t let on. Her face was in a tired, drawn, expression. “If you could focus a moment,” she said flatly. “We’re here.”

She walked them through a doorway, beyond which an expansive room filled with art and artifacts opened up. “Welcome to the Under Gallery,” she announced with a smile of pride across her cheeks. “This is where Elizabeth the First kept all art deemed too dangerous for public consumption.”

“How can art be considered dangerous?” Jack remarked curiously. “Inappropriate and scandalous, perhaps, but dangerous?”

The Doctor crouched low to the ground and took note of a small mound of sand. A look across the floor, and he saws more such mounds. With curiosity, he palmed the mound closest to him and then closed his fist around it. He held the fist of sand up as high as his shoulder and let the grains fall in a thin stream back down onto the floor. He did that for only a moment and then opened his hand to release it completely. He wiped his hand on his knee and lifted back to a stand. 

“Stone dust,” he muttered more to himself than anyone else. As he let his eyes scan the room.

“Is that important?” Kate asked him with wide eyes and a somewhat concerned tone.

“Could be,” he answered. “But then again, could also mean that your janitorial services need some work.” He jutted his chin to another pile. “Seems to be more than one of them in here.” He heard a peep from the young lady who had accompanied them but to this point had remained silent. He turned to her with a light pinch in his eye. “You in the lab coat and scarf, I take it you’re a science-type.”

She nodded quickly, her eyes wide with surprise to be noticed. “Yes. Yes I am.”

“Got a name?” he paused for a moment when she nodded and breathed out a three letter word to the affirmative. He rolled his eyes impatiently. “Well? What is it? I would prefer not to have to refer to you as hey-you.”

“Os – Osgood,” she stammered out timidly, then lifted her inhaler to draw back a deep breath of it. She held that breath a moment and then released a long exhale. “Would you like me to analyse the dust, Sir?”

“Doctor,” he corrected her. “Just the Doctor. No need for formalities.” He exhaled himself to mutter under his breath. “The Gods know I had enough of that back in the war. Sir-this, Sir-that. Tired of it.” He then drew in a deep breath and offered her a forced smile. “And yes. I’d very much appreciate it if you’d run some analysis on the dust samples. Get the results to me as quick as you can.” He stammered a bit to add as an afterthought. “Please.”

She nodded quickly and scarpered out of sight. The Doctor watched her for only a second, uncomfortable with the obvious fan-appreciation of her, but flattered non-the-less by it. He gave Jack a grin. “Looks like I have an admirer,” he purred. The smile fell. “There. A brag. You happy?”

Jack sniffed and smiled. “be happier if you …” He thought better of what he was about to say and his smile dropped. “You know what, never mind.”

“I won’t ask.”

“Best you don’t.” 

They strode fairly silently further into the gallery, both men taking careful notice of the paintings and artwork that surrounded them. Nothing here belonged. None of it should have been here.

“Again,” Jack muttered. “These paintings. This art. It doesn’t belong here.”

“I know,” he breathed out with annoyance. “Which begs the question of how they acquired any of it.”

Jack nodded. He kept his voice low. “Many of these pieces I know for a fact belong in the Braxiatel Collection. I should know, I helped acquire them.”

“I’m curious as to just how you not only know about the Braxiatel Collection, but how you were involved in acquiring any part of it.”

He wagged a brow. “I might’ve spent some time with the curator’s daughter.” 

“Spent some time,” the Doctor said flatly. “That’s what you call it, eh? So, who’s curating it now, then?”

“Irving Braxiatel,” he answered in a voice to suggest the answer was obvious. “Decent bloke when you’re on his good side. Bit of a dick when he’s got his back up – which I managed to do in spectacular fashion when Clara and I …” he grinned and gave him a wink. “You get the idea.”

“Braxiatel doesn’t have a daughter,” the Doctor corrected him. “And he’s gone. Long gone now.”

“Yeah, you might’ve mentioned that earlier,” Jack remarked with a frown. “Called him the _Late_ Irving Braxiatel. Claimed to be a relative of his.” He stepped ahead of the Doctor and walked backward wanting to face him properly as they talked. “Lies and mistruths, or do you actually know him?”

“He’s my brother,” he answered simply.

Jack stopped dead. He put his hand in the centre of the Doctor’s chest to stop him moving any further forward. “Hold on a minute. That guy is your _brother_? The curator of the Braxiatel Collection, the biggest dick in the universe when he’s got his shits on, is _your_ brother?”

“Did I stutter?” the Doctor answered gruffly. “Yes. He is.”

“Which means Clara is your niece,” his eyes widened and his jaw dropped just slightly. “Which also means that I… Oh Hell. Is this where you punch me or throw me out into the vortex?”

“Might’ve done if it were the case,” he said with a shrug. “But I can assure you that Brax did not have any children before or even during the war.” He inhaled and his voice softened to an emotional whisper as he pushed past Jack to continue walking. “And he didn’t survive the war to have any afterward. None of them did.” 

“I think you might be mistaken on that,” Jack offered with a shrug. “Because It was definitely Braxiatel, and Clara was definitely his daughter – no man gets _that_ pissed off…”

“I am _not_ mistaken,” the Doctor barked heatedly with a spin to face Jack. He tapped at his temple. “If he survived. If _any_ of them survived, I’d feel it. I’d feel it here. But I don’t. It’s quiet. There are none left.” He huffed out a breath and lowered the tone of his voice to something huffed and regretful. “Don’t you think for a moment that I don’t wish at least one of them survived what I did. I do. I want survivors, my people, one, two, hundreds who could possibly escaped my own version of the _Ultimate Sanction_ against my people. _Especially_ him, Jack. Especially Brax. But, they didn’t. None of them did. Gallifrey and my people – all of them – are gone.”

Jack held up both hands in surrender. He nodded his head. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, Doctor. Got it.” He blew out a breath. “Obviously I made a mistake.”

“Are you two about done with your little disagreement,” Kate interrupted them flatly. “Because we can wait a moment if you need more time.”

“Yeah,’ the Doctor said with a wide smile. “That’d be appreciated, thanks.” He snapped his eyes to Jack. “So. Now that’s resolved. Shall we?” he tipped his head backward and quietened his voice a snag. “Or do we want to waste a bit more of her time and keep at it?”

“We could do that,” Jack answered. “Mainly because I’d really like to determine just what kinds of nefarious deeds and deals were done to be able to procure this many pieces of your bother’s collection. He’s pretty territorial over his stuff…”

“I’m aware of that,” he muttered with a sneer.

“Yeah, and he doesn’t share his things.” He lifted his eyes to the art. “So you might want to figure out how they came to be in possession of it. Because none of this should be here – and especially not during old Bess’ reign.”

“Gentlemen,” Kate pressed.

The Doctor held up his hand to ask for a minute. “Are you still in contact with this Clara girl?”

“Not in a while,” he said with a shrug. “We got cut-off in the 51st – Round about five years ago in my timeline.”

“Yeah, well find her number,” he challenged him. “I’ll certainly have a few things to say if the current curator’s decided to sell off my brother’s collection piece by piece for his own gain.” He narrowed his eyes. “Then I’ll decide how to get it all back – Gallifrey doesn’t belong here.”

“On it,” he assured him. “Don’t worry about it.” His eyes flashed when he saw an artifact that intrigued him. “Oh, what have we here?”

The Doctor turned to Kate with a big smile on his face. “So. Sorry about that. Where were we?”

She held out her arm. “If you wouldn’t mind. Though here, please.”

The Doctor shrugged and followed her into another room. He looked around him rather than ahead, and stepped in through the doorway. He heard a short exchange between Kate and another individual, but took little notice of it. 

“This is why I called you in,” she said finally, repeating it when he didn’t seem to offer his full attention the first time.

He looked up at her, then toward the paintings that she was gesturing toward. Once again, they were Galllifreyan art-pieces in glorious 3D. while he could have stared at them for a long while, shattered glass underneath where they hung caught his attention almost immediately.

“Oh,” he breathed out curiously as he crouched to take a more analytical look at it. “Now that’s interesting.”

Jack walked up to his side. “What’s interesting? The broken glass?”

The Doctor lifted his head to look up at Jack. There was an explanation on his tongue, but it caught to see the Time Agent wearing a bright red fez on his head. “What in the name of all things holy do you have on your head?”

“A fez,” he answered with a wide grin. He held out his hands and did a pose of presentation. “Like it? Very me, isn’t it?”

The Doctor stood up quickly and swatted it off his head with a single swipe of his hand. “It’s very _something_ ,” he remarked with impatience. “Now if you don’t mind, we’re here for a reason. Would you like to focus?”

Jack stooped to pick the hat up off the ground. He brushed the top of it with his fingers. “Priceless artifact, Doctor,” he huffed. “Treat it right, will you?”

The Doctor shook his head and folded his arms across his chest. There was a light scowl of puzzlement on his face as he traced the patterns of the breakage with his eyes. “What do you notice about the shatter pattern, Jack?”

Jack looked over the fez at the painting. His brows pinched in concentration, and in a moment he had the hat tucked under his arm and was in a crouch on the floor. He drew his finger in the air in front of the shattered glass of the frame, and then along the air atop the glass on the floor. “That can’t be right.” He looked back up at the painting with a look of complete confusion on his face. “That’s been broken from the inside.”

“I was kind’ve hoping I was wrong about that,” the Doctor mumbled.

Jack walked to each painting and searched the shatter pattern of all of them. He looked to the Doctor with wide eyes. “They’ve all been broken from the inside.” He looked back. “But how is that even possible?”

Kate nodded and tapped at a tablet in her hand. “As you can see, all of these paintings are landscapes. There are no figures of any kind.”

“Yeah,” the Doctor drawled. “Not all that unusual. Plenty of works of art are landscapes.”

She held the tablet out to him with a shake in her head. “Yes. But these ones … they’ve always had figures in them.”

The Doctor snatched the tablet and took a hard look at the image on the screen. He felt Jack move in at his side to take a look of his own, and used fingers to zoom in closer to the image and assess what these figures were. He held the tablet image of the desert scene up against the painting on the wall in comparison. There was a figure walking toward them, walking with a light hunch in its head against the hot Gallifreyan desert breeze. It held a staff in its hand.

“Something’s gotten out of the paintings,” Jack muttered with worry in his tone.

“Lots of somethings,” the Doctor agreed. “Dangerous somethings.”

Kate spoke at his side. “This whole place has been searched,” she offered. “There’s nothing in here that shouldn’t be. And with the tight security here, there is no way anything’s gotten out.”

“Are you sure about that?” the Doctor asked as he handed back the tablet. “If something was wily enough to sneak in via painting without you detecting it, then I’d hazard a guess it can find its way out easily enough.”

“Trojan Horse,” Jack breathed out with a huff of concern. “The enemy moving in unseen.”

“Enemies that played the waiting game,” the Doctor agreed. “These paintings have been in this gallery for exactly how long now, Kate?”

“Late 16th century,” she answered him. “During Elizabeth the First’s reign.”

“That’s an awful long time to be in hiding,” the Doctor remarked flatly, his voice dark and full. “So why now? Why would they wait nearly half a millennia to make their move? What is the purpose of it?”

“Do you have any ideas?” she asked with hope.

The Doctor’s focus cleared and he looked at her with a smile and a shrug. “Nope. No idea at all.”

Her own smile fell. “Oh. Well that’s not what I was hoping to hear.”

“Ahhh,” he drawled. “Doesn’t mean I’m not interested in trying to figure it out, of course. Love a good challenge, me.” He clapped his hands together and gave them a rub. “So, let’s try and figure it out, shall we?”

There was a buzz and hum of electrical buildup, then a wild gust of breeze for the side of the room. The Doctor frowned as he looked toward it. There was impatience in his posture and expression. “Oh come on. Really? Can’t you see I’m busy with something else right now?” He gestured to the painting. “One disaster at a time if you don’t mind.”

Kate took a step back, seeking shelter behind the Time Lord, who seemed much more annoyed than alarmed at the sudden whirring and sparking hole that had opened up in front of them. “What’s that, Doctor?”

“A time fissure,” he answered simply. “Break in the fabric of reality. A rather spooky looking pathway to another place in time.”

“Does it have anything to do with the paintings?”

“Might do,” he muttered to himself. He looked to Jack and snatched the hat from him. “Stay here,” he ordered him. He then looked at Kate and gave her a wide grin as he frisbeed the hat into the whole. “Only one way to find out, right?”

“Where are you going?”

He turned to walk backward toward the hole. He wore a big smile on his face and thumbed behind him. “Going to check it out, aren’t I?”

“We should send someone with you,” she suggested.

“Nah, should be fine,” he assured her. “I’m a Time Lord. My people invented these things. What harm could I possibly do by walking into it?”

“You really shouldn’t say things like that, Doc,” Jack snapped.

“I’ll be fine,” he assured them. He gave a wave. “Back in a mo.” He turned and stepped into the spinning vortex with an all to casual manner.

Kate looked to Jack with worry. “Will he be alright?”

“You say that like he’s usually alright,” he answered with a shrug. He then gave her a false smirk. It was clear he wasn’t all that confident himself. “he’ll be fine. I wouldn’t worry about him… Leave that to me.”

~~oooOOOooo~~


	89. Three Doctors and a Companion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lads get together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three Doctors in one place -- oh what a shame it's Donna and not Jack there...
> 
> One thing I'm noting as I work through this episode is just how many things that happen have zero actual impact on the story. Like if it didn't happen, nothing would have changed ... meh ... but we all do it, though, right? A couple of them I quite liked, so I kept them in there.
> 
> Hope you enjoy the three Doctors coming together.

~~oooOOOooo~~

The Doctor landed heavily on the ground on the other side of the fissure. He curled a lip and rubbed at his hip as he drew himself to a stand and levered the crack in time with a sneer in his lip and fury in his eye.

“I walked straight through you,” he growled with a point at it. “Yet I had to land on my arse on this side of it. What’s the purpose of that, then?”

Behind him, the Tenth Doctor let out a gasp. He leaned forward with one foot kicked up behind him to retrieve the Fez and twirled it in his hand before popping it on his head. “Well. This just got interesting, didn’t it?”

“Who is this man?” one of the Elizbeth’s demanded angrily.

“Oh, I really don’t think you want me to answer that one,” he gruffed in reply as he watched his younger self turn slowly in place to face them. “You’ll definitely call for my head.”

“Call for something at any rate,” Nine muttered with a turn and a cautious gait toward the group. He looked at the two identical women standing either side of who he guessed was his elder sel. Both of them looked to be utterly terrified, and yet furious at the same time. His eyes then shifted toward another woman, who looked annoyed, but much less frightened. He assumed she must have been his elder self’s travelling companion. He held out his hand to her. “Hello. I’m the Doctor.”

Ten slapped his younger self’s hand away from Donna. “If you don’t mind.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “I’m a bit busy right now.”

Nine looked between the three women with a brow lifted on his forehead. “I can see that.” He then looked to Ten. “And _boy_ , do I have some questions for you regarding your current _busyness_.”

“Yeah, well that’s none of your concern, is it,” Ten snapped in reply. “My incarnation, my business. So keep your big nose out of it.”

“Doctor?” Donna managed with question, but little amusement in her voice. “What’s going on? Did he just say he was _you_?”

“Might’ve done,” he quipped with an annoyed curl in his lip. 

“Younger, or older you?” she queried. “I mean, I want to say older…”

“I’ll try not to take offence to that,” Nine gruffed indignantly. “I’m actually younger than him by … Well, by just how many years, Doctor? A Hundred? Two?”

“Five years,” he answered with a shrug. “Give or take. I wasn’t really you for all that long.” He scratched at his sideburn and looked off to one side. “Bit of an exciting incarnation, though, I have to admit. Short though it was.”

“Where’s Rose?” Nine asked with sudden darkness marring his features.

Ten’s fingernails remained on his sideburn and he looked at his younger self with innocence. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me,” he boomed. “Rose. Where is she?” He made a fast stride forward. “You can’t tell me we lose her within five years, Doctor. Not with what we have. So where is she?”

Ten didn’t look like he was going to answer that question any time in the next few minutes. If anything he looked startled and maybe a slight bit intimidated by the anger inside the question. Donna stepped forward on his behalf instead.

“Rose is fine,” Donna cut in. She stepped in between the two Doctors. “She’s at home in London. Safe. Waiting for you to come home.

“Why isn’t she here?” He queried with a slight narrowing of his eyes. “Why isn’t Rose with me?”

“Because she’s…” 

“Donna, don’t,” Ten warned her sharply. He shook his head at her. “He can’t know his future.”

“I think I’m getting’ a good enough picture of it, though,” he said with a look toward the twin ladies. Looking at their attire and based on the pennant he could see hanging from a pole in front of a tent only a short metres strides away, these two were royalty of some form. He gave a light bow of greeting. “Ladies. Didn’t mean to ignore your presence. Allow me to introduce myself.”

“No need,” Ten interrupted. “You won’t be sticking around long enough for it to matter.”

“Dunno,” he drawled with a smirk drawing up the corners of his mouth. “Might hang around a bit, actually.” The thumbed back toward the fissure, which had sealed up behind him shortly after he fell into this timeline. “Considering I’ve got no way back right now.” He looked around. “The TARDIS nearby, then? Could probably do with a lift back to London in the 21st. Got a date I’d like to keep tonight.”

“Doctor,” one of the Elizabeth’s huffed with annoyance. “Care to tell me exactly what is going on here?”

“Yeah,” he drawled with a spin on his heel to face them both. “Bit of a timeline collision, I’m afraid. Past meet future and all that. Not at all safe, so…” His head shot up and he spun again in place as the fissure reappeared. “Oh come on,” he called out. “Another one?”

Nine let out a sigh. “Let it be someone I actually like this time.”

“Pretty short list, that,” Ten shot back. “You don’t like anyone.” He then turned back toward the two Elizabeths. “Not that I really want to appear to be non chivalrous or anything…” he paused at Donna’s snort of amusement and levered her a glare. He looked back to the two queens. There was urgency in the curl of his lip and the set of his eyes. “But this might be a good time for you to run. For your lives. As far as you can.”

“You ask your monarch to run, Doctor?” one of them scoffed. “To flee from what you claim is danger?” She looked at Nine. “The last time one of these appeared, it hardly spat out anything I should be concerned with.”

Ten looked toward Nine, who shot him a wide grin full of teeth. “Yeah. Wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

“You’re absolutely right, your Majesty,” Nine sang out with cheer. He lowered into an exaggerated bow that almost had him stumble gracelessly at her feet. He maintained his balance and lifted his head to gaze upon her with a smile. “I’m hardly the fearful type.” He flicked his ear toward Ten. “Unlike sandshoes over there who could probably slit your throat with the amount of gel he’s using in his hair.”

Ten leaned his elbow down heavily on Nine’s back, which held him in his bow toward the two ladies. “Just so you know, Doctor. One of them’s a Zygon.” He pursed his lips and crossed his legs at the ankle. “Not quite sure which is which though.”

Nine straightened up quickly, enough to have Ten stagger off to the side just slightly. “Zygon, you say?” his brows pinched. “Big rubbery looking thing covered in suckers. So disgusted by its own appearance it has to make itself look like someone or something else.”

Ten looked sideways at his younger self and nodded. “Yeah. That’s the one. Filthy, disgusting looking things.”

Nine shuddered with deliberate exaggeration. “You know. I’ve encountered plenty of revoltin’ species in my time, but none make my skin crawl as much as a Zygon…”

Ten tapped his lip in a rather thoughtful manner. “Remember the Slitheen?”

Nine shuddered. “Not an easy species to forget,” he said with a shrug and a shudder. “Big. Green. Ugly. Another lot so disgusted by their own appearance they had to cosplay another species entirely…”

“Oh yes,” Ten said with a snort. “Farting aliens.” He waved his hand in front of his face and screwed up his nose. He looked toward the two women. “Disgusting…”

“And yet, still more bearable than the Zygon,” Nine added with a shrug and a fold of his arms across his chest. His eyes danced with darkness between the two women. “Isn’t that right, Doctor?”

Ten’s head flicked to one side and a smile crept up the very edges of his mouth. “Not usually inclined to agree with you, but on this one I do wholly agree.”

One of the Elizabeth’s gasped with affront. “How dare you!” she snapped with her own level of disgust and disdain. “The Zygon is a far more acceptable species than the filth of Kasterborous: The Time Lords of Gallifrey.”

None and Ten shared a look, and then with identical movements pulled their sonic screwdrivers from the inside pockets of their respective jackets and held it out toward the woman. “Well. You just made it easier, didn’t you?” Ten said with a shrug as both he and his younger self activated their sonics. The false Queen Elizabeth shimmered and swirled to finally morph into the very creature that both Doctors had been speaking so displeasingly about.

“There you go, your Majesty,” Ten chirped as he pocketed his sonic inside his blazer. “Found the imposter.”

“I was quite aware of who the imposter was,” she growled sharply in reply as she flicked her fingers in the air to call in her guards. 

“Well _you_ might’ve been,” Ten muttered to himself with a scratch at his sideburn. “As for the rest of us. Yeah. Not so easy to determine, was it?”

“And you couldn’t have just used the sonic from the start?” Donna asked with a lift in her brow and a tit in her slouch. “Rather than using the seduction method?”

Nine shot his elder self a glare. “What method?”

“Again, none of your business,” Ten said with wistful dismissiveness. “So if you don’t mind. We’re all sorted here now, you can leave.”

A voice called out from the fissure above them. “Hey, Doc?”

Everyone looked upward, but it was Nine who actually answered. “Yeah, Jack. I’m here. Can you hear me?”

“Nah, you might want to move around a bit,” Jack answered with amusement in his voice. “Shaky reception on this end.”

“Yeah,” he drawled. “Not fallin’ for it.”

“Where are you right now?”

Nine looked at his elder self. He had a fair idea of the general temporal coordinates – he was a Time Lord, after all – but passed a look to Ten anyway. “England, 1562?”

“Yeah, close enough,” Ten answered with a shrug. He had his head seated upward toward the fissure, intrigued by the thought of Jack standing on the other side of it. Perhaps Rose as well?

“England, 1562,” he called up. “Looks like we might end up with a bit of insight into the whole Doctor and Elizabeth the First thing when this is done.”

Ten shot a look to Nine. “What are you talking about?”

“Thanks’ what I’d like to know,” he purred out, his eyes still held high.

Jack seemed intrigued from his end of the vortex. “Sounds like fun. Who’re you talking to?”

“Myself.”

“Hold on, there’s two of you there?” There was a low chuckle. “Oh, man…”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you’re coming through the fissure,” he warned. “Need you back there for now.”

“Take the fun out of it as usual,” he sighed in reply. “Can you come back through?”

“Isn’t that the question?” Ten asked with his face once again raised to the fissure above. “Physical passage might not be possible in both directions. Bit of a mystery, these things. Not entirely stable nor predictable.”

Nine snatched the fez from Ten’s head. “Heads up,” he called. “Sendin’ you back your fez.” He did an underarm flick of his wrist to frisbee it up into the vortex. He listened for the suck of the fissure taking it into the vortex and waited a second. “Well?”

“Nothing here.”

“Uh-huh,” he managed with a strangled tone through a neck outstretched entirely to look up at the fissure. “Where’d it go, then?” He then looked down to his elder self. “So?”

“So, what?”

“Well you’ve been here before,” he offered with a slightly exasperated sigh. “What happens next?”

He rubbed at the back of his neck and his cheek crinkled up in a somewhat sheepish manner. “Yeah, about that. Not quite recalling any of this, really.”

Nine let out a huff. “Yeah. Makes sense. The two of us being here causing the timelines to go out of synch right. Hard to retain it all, I suppose.” He retrieved his sonic from his jacket pocket. “Which means anything can happen and we’re flying blind. I don’t like that.”

“Neither do I.” Ten muttered in reply. He also took out his sonic and then gestured upward with a tilt of his chin. “Shall we?”

The pair of them held up their sonic screwdrivers toward the fizzure. Both screwdrivers were almost identical except for Ten’s being able to extend an inch and a half. Nine took a sideways look at it and smirked. “Compensating, are we?”

“Try not to be so crass,” Ten snapped in reply. “Undignified git.” He huffed and concentrated his watch of the fissure just that little tighter, forcing him to look down the entire length of his arm to see the tip of his sonic. He then drew it back and held it sideways to take a look at it. “not getting any definite readings,” he admitted. “Can’t get a fix on it’s location.” He looked to Nine with raised brows. “Any luck with yours?”

“Considerin’ your more updated one can’t get a fix,” He huffed in reply. “What makes you think mine will do any better?” He looked at his sonic. “This is the one thing in the entire universe where the one who wields it has no impact on its effectiveness – despite the phallic nature of it.” He pursed his lips. “Although maybe…” he knocked it a pair of times on the top of Ten’s head and then held it back up to the fissure. “Sometimes a good smack is all it takes.”

“Very funny.”

Both men took a sudden step backward as a tick figure fell out of the vortex and onto the thickets covering the ground.

“Oh-Kay,” Ten drawled out long. “Unexpected.”

The man on the ground let out a gruff and hoarse sound of pain. He slowly drew himself to a stand and rubbed the dust from his knees and thighs. “I’m really getting too old for this,” he admitted as he swatted dust from his shoulder. He held out the red hat ahead of him. “Anyone lose a fez?”

Both Doctors had expressions of complete and utter discomfort on their faces. They strode backward with such slow and controlled movements so as to not tempt a large animal to see sudden movement and launch an attack. The presentation of the fez thrust so eagerly forward made the pair of them flinch.

“What are you doing here?” Ten asked on a low voice that held as much fear as it did anger. “ _How_ can you be here?”

“This day just goes from bad to worse,” Nine muttered. “Shoulda stayed in bed.”

“I’ve been saying that for the last five years,” Ten said under his breath. He finally lifted his chin and looked to his much younger self. “You didn’t answer my question, Doctor. What are you doing here? Don’t you have a war to fight?”

“One to end, you mean,’ he corrected with a huff. The somewhat annoyed expression shifted, and he lifted his head to attempt a friendly smile. “If you don’t mind. I’m looking for the Doctor.”

Ten’s brows lifted and his voice flew out of him along a breath. “Well. You’ve certainly come to the right place.”

“Oh good,” he said with obvious relief. “So who are you boys, then?”

“Watch who you’re calling a boy,” Nine gruffed. His initial startlement and apprehension fell away to annoyance. “Unlike Sandshoes here, I’m well beyond that moniker.”

“When you’re as old as I am,” War said with a tired sound. “Anyone your age is a boy in my eyes.”

“Even if we’re both older than you are?” Ten asked. His apprehension was still firmly in place. This was not a development he was in any way comfortable with. Bad enough old leather was here, but this one as well?

War waved his hand. “Not even remotely close to my age.” He wiped down the front of his jacket in a somewhat dismissive manner. “Now if you wouldn’t mind pointing me in the general direction of the Doctor, then the both of you can get back to your…” he flicked a hand toward Donna, who huffed at the gesture. “To _whatever_ it was you were doing before I arrived.”

“Yeah,” Ten drawled. “Not really going to be able to do that right now.”

“Might be best if you went back the way you came,” Nine added with a scowl. “Reckon we’ve got enough of us here to get this lot sorted already.”

War fired him a pinched glare of curiosity. “Companions,” he huffed out with a slight smile. “Yes. The protectiveness of a companion is quite clear from the pair of you. It’s appreciated, of course, but hardly warranted.”

“Not companions,” Ten half-squeaked out. He held up his sonic screwdriver. At his side, his younger self did the same. The both of them looked at their war-torn self with high brows – one of them dark and brooding in his expression, the other more apologetic than anything. “We _are_ the Doctor.”

War looked to the screwdrivers, and then let his eyes sweet between the two of them. “You’re both me?”

“Not you,” Nine drawled out with disgust. “Stopped being _you_ when I regenerated into this body.”

“Sounds rather ominous,” war replied calmly. “But not at all surprising, I suppose.” He slumped only slightly. “It certainly explains why the two of you look at me like I’m a ghost. I imagine I’m the one you prefer to forget.”

‘You could say that,” Ten quipped. “After what you did…” he shook his head. 

“Don’t forget that it was something you did also,” War reminded him. “Looking at me like you are right now…” he smirked a rueful arc of his lips. “Like I’m some kind of monster here to haunt your dreams.”

“Because you are,” Ten answered. “All of them. Every night. Reminding me of what we did, of the lives we couldn’t save.”

“There’s no other choice,” War countered. “And you should know that. Gallifrey in the sky over London, the madness of Rassilon and the Time Lords.” He lowered his head. “No choice in it.”

“You were there,” Ten started as much as asked. “At the house. With Rose. Is .. is she…?”

Nine flashed Ten an angry curious glare. “Where?” he shot out. “And is she what?”

War held up his hand. “The Lady Rose will recover. I saw to it.” His eyes were on Ten. “You were with Romana and Brax when Gallifrey appeared in the sky?” He watched his elder self nod. “And so you’re the one who stands as her mate and are the –” his words caught when Ten made a sound and shook his head.

“He doesn’t know, so don’t.”

Nine gasped. “Romana? Braxiatel?” He looked toward Ten with wide eyes of hope. “They survived?”

“It was toward the end of the war,” Ten answered quickly, not taking his eyes off his war-torn self. “Before we did what we had to do. A final adventure for the lads and Lady of Lungbarrow.” He let out a breath. “Something for you to look forward to, Doctor. Rassilon _and_ the Master. Good times.”

“Sounds like it,” he huffed with a roll in his eyes. He looked at the War Doctor. “Rose was hurt?” his eyes flicked toward Ten. “And if she was, why aren’t you with her makin’ sure she’s okay before you swan off on another adventure?”

“Long story,” he answered with a curl in his lip. “And not one I particularly want to regale you and everyone else here with right now.”

“I think I’ve got time,” he growled. 

“Oh, shelve the Oncoming glare,” he snarled in reply. “You’re going to have to try harder than that if you want to intimidate me.”

“Can be arranged, you know.”

War lifted his head. His expression was one of tired disappointment as he looked up into the fissure. “Are you sure this is what you want me to see?” he asked. “That I regenerate into petulant children as I cycle toward my end. I admit I don’t see the purpose of this.”

Ten’s head appeared close to his to look up into the fissure at his side. “Who are you talking to?”

“The Bad Wolf,” he answered simply, a shrug in his shoulders.

The reactions of both elder Doctors were remarkably different. Nine’s almost guarded expression held a large measure of fear, whereas the Tenth Doctor’s face fell into immediate fury. “I’m sorry,” he growled. “Did you just say _Bad Wolf_?”

War lowered his head to look toward him. There was exhaustion in his face. “Yes. That name means something to you, I take it?”

“Oh yes,” he breathed out with a dangerous smile. “So how about you ask her to step on by. I’ve got a few things I’d like to say to her if you don’t mind.” He lifted his chin. “You hear that, dear? Feel free to drop on by so we can have a little chat.”

Jack’s voice answered instead of the Bad Wolf. “Err, Doctor? What’s going on over there?”

Ten slumped and flicked a hand to Nine. “Yeah. All yours.”

“Yeah, Jack,’ he called up. “Seems we’ve got somewhat of a Time Lord party happening down here. Might be best you don’t wait up. This could take a while.”

“A Time Lord party and I’m not invited?” He sounded offended by that. “And I wore my best frock and all.”

Nine snickered and looked toward the other two Doctors with the expectation that they’d be as amused as he was. Neither of them were, of course, and he rolled his eyes and shook his head. He readied to speak again, but was cut off with the arrival of several of the Queen’s guards. Nine stepped back a step, as did Ten and War, until they were in a protective circle around Donna, who had remained surprisingly quiet throughout the entire exchange. The whereabouts of the Queen went without question from either man. 

A man atop a white steed let his horse tamp at the ground with restless hooves. He pointed to the trio. “Encircle them,” he ordered. “Which one of you is the Doctor?”

“Take your pick,” Nine called up. “Ever played eenie-meenie-miney-moe?”

“This is no game,” the nobleman admonished him with a point of a riding crop. “Our Queen has been bewitched, and you will lose your head for this witchcraft.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Ten muttered into his hand as he palmed his face. “This is pretty much the opposite of where I wanted to go with this.”

“Probably because where you wanted to go was a stupid plan,” Donna hissed at him. 

Nine smirked. “Ahh. Witchcraft,” he called in reply. “How convenient of you to bring up that rather brilliant idea for distraction.” He looked up into the fissure and sang out with jovial invitation. “Oh Jacqueline – wicked witch of Bucknall…”

“I’m telling her you said that,” Jack called down with a laugh.

“Not you, Jack,” he said with a groan. “I’m looking for the Witch. Jacqueline, oh my witch Jacqueline, are you up there.”

The reply that filtered down was so perfectly Broadway Drag Queen that Nine and Ten actually spit out identical breaths of laughter through their lips.

“What is it, you frustrating yet glorious mortal man? Did my spell work? Have you finally decided to give up all others and pledge yourself to me?” He sang out a sound of excitement, a squeal. “Ooh. Well shantay darling, exciting times ahead!”

The nobleman looked upward with fear in his eyes. “What is this witchcraft?”

“The type that can turn you into an ehm …” Nine looked up. “Little help, Jack?”

There was a displeased grunt from above, then a cackle. “If you don’t release my eternal beloved, I shall be forced to turn you all into … uh … shit … uh … frogs! Yes, all of you, into frogs. With warts and slime and stuff.”

“Well?” Nine snapped with a wide smirk. “You heard my _beloved_. Off you pop or you’ll be croakin’ over the next little while.” He chuckled. “Ribbit. Ribbit.”

There was a sudden clunking and clattering of weapons and armour as the entire troop of men dropped down onto a knee. “The Queen! The Queen!”

“Why thank you,” Jack chirped from above. “I do try.”

“Not now, Jack,” Nine warned with a lift in his head but not his eyes. He kept that gaze on the approach of the Queen, who walked toward them, wiping the bloody blade of her dagger along the soft pastel yellow and orange of her skirts. 

Her eyes were on the trio of men circled around Donna – the only one in the group who had actually fallen to a knee. “Well,” she remarked coolly. “You don’t seem to be kneeling in my presence. How tremendously brave of you.”

“Are you her?” Ten asked with a pinch in his eye. “As in the real Elizabeth and not a slippery, rubbery Zygon in disguise.”

“I am,” she answered with a victoriously smug smile.

“And where is the other one?”

She stared at him. “Well one would expect that when one sees the queen wiping her bloody dagger on her skirts that the fate of my enemy was obvious. Long live the Queen.” She smiled as her men chanted the same, their heads down and their swords standing high in the dirt. Her smile fell. “Now as for you.” Her eyes shifted toward Ten. “I’m not at all pleased with your impertinent performance, in fact I found it extremely distasteful – however, it does bring me concern as to what other dangers await the chance to usurp and take my throne. So Doctor, you and your friends will accompany me back to the castle.”

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” he argued lightly, how brows held high and his eyes wide in pleading. “You can’t really have the three of us all together for too long.” His lip curled up. “Nothing good can come from it.”

“You believe it to be a choice, Doctor?” she asked with incredulity. 

Nine gave her a bow. “I think that’s a brilliant idea, your Majesty,” he said with a grin. “Put us up in the tower, perhaps?” He looked to Donna with a wag in his brow. “Always wanted to see the tower.”

“I wouldn’t take the tower too lightly,” Elizabeth warned. “But yes, that’s where I intend on keeping you until I’ve decided what it is I’ll end up doing with you.” She circled her finger at her men. “Arrest them,” she ordered. “To the Tower.”

~~oooOOOooo~~


	90. Gaol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Locked up ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's kick at it ... are you bored yet?
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

~~oooOOOooo~~

The three Doctors and one companion were forcibly directed into a large dirty room within the tower. A guard shoved into the back of the War Doctor, a grunt in his push.

“Come on, you lot,” he gruffed with a sneer. “Get in there.”

War stumbled forward at the shove, tripping over a large rock on the floor to almost dance into the centre of the room as he struggled to maintain his balance. He caught himself in a stoop and glared toward the door as the guard closed it loudly behind him. “Well. That was unnecessary, don’t you think?”

Ten strode past him with a shrug. His hands were deep inside his trouser pockets and he walked a twirl as he assessed their current circumstance with a lift in his lip. “Thought it might be a bit cleaner than this.” He stopped walking and straightened his arms to drop his head into his shoulders. “So much for good old English hospitality.”

“Reckon you put a damper on that when you tried to seduce the fake Queen,” Donna offered with a roll in her eyes as she walked past him, kicking her shoes in the dirt at her feet. Her face wore an expression of frustration. “How I ended up being locked up with you, I dunno. I wasn’t party to that.”

“Yeah, but you’re my plus one,” Ten teased with a smirk. “Arrested by association.”

“In other words,” Nine offered. “A standard Tuesday.”

“It’s Thursday,” Ten shot back indignantly.

“Tuesday,” He said with a shrug. “Thursday. Both begin with a T, end with day, and end up with us being locked up in a dungeon somewhere.” He looked around the room and clapped his hands together. “Right. Now to engage in a little Elizabethan-Age graffiti.”

Ten spun to keep his eyes on Nine’s walk toward pillars in the room. His eyes were tight with question. “What are you muttering about?” His eyes then shifted toward the war-torn version of himself, who had his sonic held up to the door. “And you. Don’t do that. Don’t waste you’re time. The sonic isn’t going to work on _that_.” He pursed his lips and lowered his voice. “Too primitive.”

“Well I have to do something,” War gruffed. “Having the three of us in here for too long is likely going to cause some extreme disruptions and anomalies along our timelines.”

“Because the short time we’ve already had together isn’t anomalous enough,” he said with a sniff. “But, hey, ask them to replace it with a better quality door. Sure they’d appease the request if you tell them we need it to escape.” He then flicked his hand at him and turned toward where Nine was caressing the sides of a support pillar with both hands and purring. “What in the name of Rassilon are you doing?”

“Pickin’ the best one,” he answered with a shrug. He looked around the floor a moment, and then stooped with a kick of his leg behind him to pick up a rock. He gave Ten a smile and a wink on his upward rise and petted the column with the flat of his hand. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he drawled with a look of distaste and a slap of his tongue to further accept the disapproval. “You two need a moment?”

He winked in reply. “If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate that.” He looked at the column and tilted his head at it. With an exhale, he offered his apologies toward it, then started to scratch at it with the rock.

War stepped up beside Ten and watched Nine with curiosity curling his brow up into his faux-hawk. “What is that fool up to?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” he answered with a shrug. “Not always right in the head, that one.”

“Oi!” he shot without looking back. “Unlike the pair of you, I’m actually doing something about gettin’ us out of here.”

“Yeah,” Ten drawled with a slightly high tone to his voice. “I’ll let you believe that. Do carry on. The adults here will come up with an _actual_ plan to escape, yeah.”

“I’m older than granddad,” Nine huffed in reply. “But yeah. You two pretend to be able to have half a braincell between you to get us out.”

Ten offered him a gesture that was a filthy retort on their home planet, yet considered benign on every other planet. He then turned to his much younger self. “Still out whether or not the monarch of Britain is a Zygon.”

“If she wasn’t,” Donna offered. “Then we’d all be executed, not locked up.”

“You think so, do you?”

“Makes sense,” she said with a sigh as she leaned her back up on a column that looked to be in far less a condition than the one that the man in leather was happily scratching at. “A Zygon-or-whatever knowing that you lot think she’s an alien would just kill you, right? Why risk the discovery?” She rolled her shoulders with discomfort. “The real Queen would actually hold you up for a bit while she works out a plan to either use you for England’s gain, or execute you.”

“Makes sense,” Ten agreed with a smirk.

“Found yourself a clever one there,” Nine said with a smile, but without looking away from his task. “How’s it feel to be outdone by your companion, Doctor?”

“You just shut up and do your artwork,” he growled in reply. He gave Donna a wink that said he was proud of her assessment, then turned toward the war version of himself. “So. Now that we’ve got a viable purpose of our detainment, let’s move on.” He lifted his chin and stared at his younger self. “Why do you think we’ve all been pulled together, then.”

War just offered him a look.

Ten continued to talk and began a light pace across the front of him. “Gotto admit that the Leather version of ourself was as surprised as I was that we bumped into each other.” He stooped pacing to give a narrowed glare. “You, on the other hand. You weren’t surprised at all. In fact, you were actually looking for us.”

“I was,” he confirmed. “At least one of you anyhow. It was exactly specified just how many of us I may encounter.”

Ten nodded. “I see. So. Who told you, then?”

“Does it matter?”

“Quite a lot, actually,” Ten replied with a grunt. “Putting more than one of us together for any reason risks everything. All of reality…”

“You say that like it’s never happened before,” Nine muttered flatly. “Happens almost every incarnation. One. Two. Three. Even five of us at one time.” He shrugged. “Reality survived then, it’ll survive now.” He pursed his lips. “Unless I decide to kill one of you, first, which isn’t out of the realm of possibility.” He looked up to the stonework that surrounded the very top of the column. “Would that be murder, or suicide? Don’t know that it’s ever actually been properly determined.”

“Depends if you follow through and remove all regenerative ability to make it permanent,” Ten said with a shrug. “I guess.” He looked back to the War Doctor. “So, you haven’t answered my question. Who told you?”

He appeared to look off to one side at something unseen by the other people in the room. There was a tick in his head, a minute nod, and he looked back at Ten. “A friend,” was his cryptic reply. 

“A friend,” Ten drawled with doubt. “Didn’t know you actually had any.”

War gave him a tired look and let out a breath. “I have plenty, thank you.” His eyes flicked toward Donna, who was analyzing her fingernails and clicking in air through pursed lips of utter boredom. “And I look to have them in the future as well.”

“Yeah, they come and go,” Ten admitted with a sigh. “Come into our life, make such an incredible impact, then break our hearts and leave.”

“Not me,” Donna chirped. “Stuck with me for the rest of my life.”

“Yeah,” he breathed out. “That’s what they all say, isn’t it? _I’ll stay with you forever, Doctor. Always_.” He looked away. “And then you leave. And I end up alone.”

“I really hope you’re not talking about _her_ ,” Nine said with a low rumble from the column. He’d stopped scratching for a moment. “About Rose.” He resumed his scratching. “She’s one that _will_ be with us forever.”

War looked at the look of devastation that briefly crossed the features of the man in pinstripes, and then passed his gaze toward the determined looking Leather-clad Doctor. “The Lady Rose. Yes. And I must say that the story of our…”

“Don’t!” Ten spat sharply. He lifted a finger and held it in the face of the youngest of the three of them. “What you know, what you think you know, he doesn’t know any of it. So ixnay on the atemay if you don’t mind.”

“I can speak eight billion languages,” Nine ground out with a turn from his task. “Just so you are aware. Pig Latin happens to be one of them.”

“Well good for you,” Ten said with a smile. He petted his pockets. “Might have a biscuit in here for you.”

Nine ignored the obvious jab toward his intelligence and looked at his younger self. “This’ been buggin’ me. Figured I’d put it down to a timeline collision with an elder one of us, bein’ that I don’t remember meetin’ Rose at all before Henricks. In this body.” He pulled off the column and tossed the rock he’d been using off to the side. “But I’m thinking there’s more going on with Sandshoes over there forcing you to be tight-lipped about it.”

“Nothing you need to know,” Ten warned him.

“Yeah, not quite sure on that,” Nine huffed. His glare shifted to War. I’m curious as to how _well_ you know Rose – equally interested in why you refer to her as Lady Rose.” His head angled to one side with suspicion. “You’ve brought up Brax, Romana, and Rose in the same sentence. How is that possible?“

Now it was War’s turn to appear flummoxed. “You’re after me, yet you say you don’t meet her until you are you, and yet…”

“Again with the spoilers,” Ten said with exaggerated exasperation. He pointed to Nine. “You don’t need to know, because it doesn’t concern you.” He looked to War. “And _you_ , you need to keep your gob shut, because the Rose that you know, the one you met, is the Rose Tyler from _my_ timeline. Everything she is to us, all you see, what you know, is all my doing, yeah?”

The seat of War’s shoulders fell as his expression shifted to complete confusion. He lifted his eyes to think on what he had seen, the photograph in her hallway of a man younger than them all, the children quite obviously born before the war began, and yet one of his elders acts as though he’s the one who met her…

..Of course the question of just how he didn’t remember any of it was still quite high up in the stratosphere as well.

Nine was less quietly flummoxed, and more openly aggressive. “I really don’t like the sound of that,” he snarled toward the eldest of them all. He strode quickly toward him, moving in chest to chest. “You’re here with a companion that isn’t Rose.” He kept his chest against Ten’s but flicked a hand back toward War. “This one says Rose is hurt, and yet you’re here, not with her where you should be if she’s injured. Instead you’re swanning about in Elizabethan England trying to male a pull on a Zygon.”

“I was trying to prove that it wasn’t the real Elizabeth,” he seethed through his teeth.

“By tryin’ to get in it’s knickers,” he growled. He huffed into the face of a man who was just as tall, but nowhere near as bulky as he was, and poked a fingertip into his chest. “Somethin’ I know Rose wouldn’t approve of. More than that, I can’t think of a single on of our incarnations that would even begin to entertain a plan of discovery so utterly revoltin’ and ludicrious.”

“I wouldn’t have taken it that far,” Ten seethed in reply. “Just far enough to trip it up to get the proof I need…”

“Still disgustin’,” he snarled. Although it shouldn’t have been possible, Nine leaned in an inch closer to him. “So now I’m gonna ask. Where is Rose, and why isn’t she part of this little expedition of yours? Why is she home, alone, hurt, and you’re here?”

“She’s safe,” he replied quietly. There was very little hostility in his tone, but it was clear he was becoming frustrated. “Safe with Romana. Safe and _protected_ with Brax at her side. Rose …” he drew in deep. “Rose _and_ the children.”

Nine took a very long stride backward. His eyes blew wide and he tilted his shoulder away to almost shrink away from what he’d just heard. His expression was one of complete terror. “What did you just say?”

“I hope to Rassilon, Omega, and the Other that you don’t remember a word of this, Doctor,” Ten snarled in his own defence. “But as I don’t think you’re at all capable of focusing at all on the situation we are currently involved in until you get your damn answer, I’ll give you a snippet of your future.” He let out a couple of breaths as he figured out how to best shut this great brute up with enough omissions as to keep him tempered. “Know this, Doctor. There comes a time for us when Rose finally answers the question you keep asking her. She answers it, Doctor, _in_ our language.” His brows both pinched and lifted. “And together we become something _brilliant_. So. _So_ Brilliant.”

Ten then sniffed a wet sound. “If you think for a moment that I’m happy to be _swannin’ about the universe_ without Rose at my side right now, then you’re sorely mistaken.” He shook his head and then held his hand between his hearts. “I want her here with me. I ache when she’s not with me…”

“He’s right,” Donna offered helpfully. “This one’s a mess without her. I know, I have to put up with his whining.”

“Not really helping,” Ten said with a sigh. “Though I appreciate the effort.” 

He looked back to Nine with fierceness in his eyes. “So don’t you dare accuse me of not caring enough for her, or thinking _I_ abandoned _her_ , because you can’t be further from the truth.” He fought back the emotion stinging the backs of his eyes. “Rose is still the reason that my hearts beat inside my chest. Her name is still the one that keeps me fighting. She is my strength and my weakness, my voice of reason and my common sense when I lose track of them.” He looked at him with a determined expression. “If you believe that Rose isn’t the first thing in my mind when I wake, and the last thing on my mind before I go to sleep, that she’s not at the forefront of my mind for all of that time in between, then you’re sorely mistaken, Doctor, because she is. She so, _so_ is.”

Silence fell within the room, with only the sounds of heavy breaths ghosting through the damp air surrounding them. It took a moment for any one of the three Doctors to finally break from their silence. When one did, it was the oldest of the three. Ten inhaled a deep breath, swallowed thickly, cleared his throat, and then sniffed and looked toward the door.

“Well. Best we get back to it, then,” he said in a tight tone. “Try to get out of here.”

“Indeed, yes,” War agreed with a bull body shudder to expel the discomfort of Ten’s rant. He walked toward the door and pressed at the wood with his fingertips. He looked to be trying to ignore a whisper or a breath against his ear with an annoyed lift in his shoulder when he spoke. “In theory, I can trigger an isolated sonic shift among the molecules.” He grabbed his sonic and held it against the wood. “If I can do that, then the door should disintegrate.”

Ten walked to beside him, his hands deep inside his trouser pockets. Any sign of the emotion he had only moments ago had fallen away completely, and he spoke in a voice of curious contemplation. “We’d have to calculate the exact harmonic resonance of the entire structure down to a subatomic level.” He pursed his lips to one side. “Even using the sonic, it would take years, which we don’t have.”

War pushed at the wood with both hands to shove himself backward. He took position beside his Tenth self and put his hands on his hips. “It would be pointless for me to ask if you have any insight into this, considering you’ve been here before.”

“We already established that there’s been a memory malfunction toward this part of our timeline back at the tent,” he said with a sniff. “And even if you weren’t a part of that particular conversation, I’d imagine you already worked it out for yourself, you know, given that we have no idea just why we’re all here. You, Leather, then the good looking one…” He cheekily adjusted his tie.

“Mentioned me twice there,” Nine cut in with forced joking. It was clear that he was still quite shell shocked by Ten’s bombshell about Rose but was trying to shield it.

Ten shook his head. “Did you finish your art project, yet?”

“Yeah,” he drawled. “Did my part. Now to see if UNIT’s got some intelligence in their hierarchy to decipher it.”

“Meaning what?”

He thumbed over his shoulder. “Temporal Coordinates,” he answered flatly. “Could be used in the TARDIS, or with Jack’s manupilator.”

Ten’s mouth stretched into a smile. “So. You sent a message half a millennia into the future.”

“Sure did.” He checked his watch, a neat little timepiece picked up at a bazaar on Aivat, during his Eighth incarnation shortly before the war. “And if Jack’s smart – which he is – then he should be here shortly to pull of a good old fashioned jailbreak.”

“That is provided, of course, that there haven’t been any renovations done between now and then,” Ten said with a half-smirk. “Simple spackle and paint job would cover that up well enough.”

“Don’t rain on my parade, yeah?” he scoffed. “Still a better plan than what the two of you are thinkin’ of doing. At least I’m actually doing something instead of flapping my gums.”

“Must the two of you really fight like children?” War shot in with a growl. “Will you ever grow up and act like adults?”

“I believe it was a great man that once said: What’s the point in being grown up if you can’t be childish sometimes,” Ten remarked with a shrug.

Donna gave a laugh. “I like that. Who said it?”

“I did,” Nine answered with a toothy smile. The smile then shifted to more of a scowl and he looked to the youngest of the three men. “Given what we did, what we’ve been through, I think we’ve earned the right, don’t you?”

The War Doctor merely looked at him. The whisper in his ear reminded him that the war was history to both of his elder selves, that to them it had already been decided. He tipped his head just slightly to one side as he let that voice continue to speak, to remind him why he was here, why they were all together now. To see who he would become if he destroyed their planet – killing their people.

“They believe their past is real,” the voice continued. “That their nightmares are the truth of what happened. They don’t know that it’s still up to you.”

There was a glimmer in the darkness of the gaol they were held in. Through the misty dampness of it, he watched the ghostly image of the Bad Wolf appear against a wall. She walked toward the man in leather, a dark, brooding man that still held a slight hint of youthful vitality within him.

“He’s you straight out of the war,” she muttered with a look of admiration in her eyes. She drew ghostly fingers down his arm that were unfelt. “So full of spit and fire, anger and hostility.” She looked back at War with a soft expression. “Almost immediately he met her – the women they both love. Oh, but he was angry and spiteful back then. Back before her.” She looked back at Nine with a shake in her head. “The first trip he took her on was to watch the destruction of her own planet. He wanted to punish her, to make her feel the anger and the helplessness of it, of watching your planet burn.”

“That’s cruel,” he muttered under his breath. 

“Not in his eyes,” she offered. “At least not back then. Not before he got to know the strength of her. Her compassion, her bravery, her spirit and selflessness.” She looked back. “Virtues you thought lost after so many years of war, am I right, Doctor?”

He blinked, but said nothing.

“This man. Well. He was so very unsure of the man he had been forced to become,” she said with a huff and a shrug. “He was lost. So lost. He danced across the lines of who he was, who he had become, and who he needed to be like a child.” She looked back to War. “Then he found _her_. Rose. She ran when he said run, wandered when he told her not to, found him when he told her to forget him, and came back when he sent her away.” She gave a whimper. “And loved him when he thought he didn’t deserve it.”

She stepped away from Nine and wandered toward Ten. “Now this one. This Man. This beautiful, hopeless fool.” She cupped his cheeks with ghostly hands that actually gave the Time Lord a shudder. “Born out of love. A lover. Full of flirt and cheek. An endless talker who never shuts up, but never actually says anything either.” She tilted her head to one side and looked almost adoringly into his face. “Took what he had for granted, and then lost it all.” She smiled and dipped her head to look through her brows into the brown eyes of the Tenth Doctor. “Well. It wasn’t entirely his fault, of course. I may have had a little bit of a hand in that.”

“What did you do?” he asked with a growl.

“What I had to do,” she answered with a sigh. She released her hold on Ten and wandered on over to a support column beside War. “Nothing more.”

War looked between the two men. They’d abandoned the task of trying to get his attention and were now talking quietly to each other, while looking at the locked door ahead of them. The man in Leather with his arms folded against his chest and his chin held low with an analytical stare, and the man in pinstripes with his hands inside his trouser pockets and his head held high over his shoulders, his companion close at his side.

“Ask them,” Bad Wolf urged him.

“Ask them what?”

“How many?” she answered. “Just how many of Gallifrey’s children were taken that day. How many lives they mourn.”

War cleared his throat to get their attention. While neither of them turned their heads to them, he could see in the seats of their shoulders that they were listening.

“How many?” he asked with a hoarse tone of voice.

“How many what?” Nine questioned with only a shift of his head to look to his shoulder.

“How many children were on Gallifrey that day?”

“I don’t know,” Nine admitted with a growl as he turned his head back to the door. “Never counted. What would be the point?”

War tipped his head to one side, there was doubt in his expression. He looked toward his pinstriped self, who had actually made the effort to turn toward him. “Did you ever count?”

“Two-point-four seven billion,” Ten answered with a dark stare toward Nine. “Triple that amount if you want to include Time Lords, Soldiers, Women, Men.” His face tightened up. “No survivors, Doctor. None. All of them are gone.” His voice shook as he raised his eyes upward. “Billions and billions more innocent life forms not evolved enough to fight against it. Mass extinction. Gallifrey, and everything she ever was is gone now.”

“How pathetic that all that remains of the war is me,” Nine said with a shrug. “Of all Gallifrey, it had to be me, didn’t it? The last of the Time Lords, Gallifrey’s last child. Is _me_.”

“Well,” Ten sang out along a devastated breath. “It was prophesized back when we were loomed, wasn’t it? We’d either be the most important Time Lord since Rassilon, or we’d be the one that destroys it all.”

Donna looked horrified by that. “That was an actual prophesy?” She stooped forward with horror. “And you were told this … as a _child_?”

“No such thing as childhood on Gallifrey for a future Time Lord,” Nine said with a weak smile. “Forced into study before our naked little slippery bottoms had even been cleaned and dried of the sludge of the loom.” 

“Do they not know?” War asked under his breath toward the ghost at his side. “That there are tens of thousands of them? Survivors of the war?”

“They believe their reality,” she answered him softly. “Neither of them knowing that there are members of their race: the Outsiders, Arcadians, Southern Mountaineers, Time Lords, Gallifreyans. That your brother has collected and preserved the history, artwork, legends of your people. Survivors.”

“And what will I believe?” he asked gravely, fearing he knew the answer. “Until the day you are him,” she said with a tip of her chin toward Ten. “And you return here with your future held in the hands of a much younger you – you’ll never know it, either.” She turned to him. “You will do what you need to do with the knowledge you have now that your people live on. The fires of regeneration, however, will remove it all from you and you will become him.” She looked to Nine. 

“That’s not entirely fair,” he remarked gruffly. A comment picked up by Ten, who looked at him with high brows.

“What’s not fair?”

“That I have to become the two of you,” he growled as he pushed off the column and staked toward the door. He held his sonic up at it, the tip of it lighting a small portion of the wood. “It occurred to me…”

“You mean when you were having your granddad nap over there,” Ten said with a smirk.

“It occurred to me,” he repeated with a glare at Ten. He then looked back to the wood. “That we each have our own screwdrivers. Ones that we have upgraded over the years, the centuries…”

“Yep,” Ten said with a pop as he flipped his sonic upward and snatched it out of the air. “Same screwdriver. Same software, different case.”

“At a software level, they’re the same device, aren’t they?”

“Yeah,” Ten Drawled.

“So, it would take centuries for the screwdriver to calculate how to distintegrate the door…”

Ten held up his hand. “Yeah. But we’re only a few years apart,” he said with apology in his tone. “Nowhere near long enough for the calculations to be complete. Even if we were to come up with some great sneaky plan of sneaking back along our timeline to plant your screwdriver in a TARDIS…” He shrugged. “Yeah. Just doesn’t work like that.”

Donna sighed. “I was going to suggest that and all, too.”

“Yeah,” Nine drawled. “But while your sophisticated plans of implanting calculations as a permanent subroutine in the software architecture in the hope that none of our younger selves would find the hidden code then delete it – and let’s admit it, we would – is spectacularly flawed.” He smiled wide feeling a shift in the air from beyond the doorway. “My rather rudimentary juvenile vandalism attempt on a national landmark seemed to do the trick.”

“And what are you on about?” Ten snapped.

Nine pointed to the doorway. “Give it a mo. I’d count down the seconds, but when it comes to Harkness, you have to allow additional time for him to preen, prep, and come up with the best entrance possible.”

The door suddenly woofed open with a whoosh of air and the violent shift of dust. Inside the bright sunlight from the window beyond the doorway, stood a figure in a theatrical pose of performance, one arm up and twisted and turned with dramatic presentation.

“I’m here, Doctor,” Harkness boomed with a smile. “Did you miss me?”

Nine stalked forward. “You know. I might’ve run with the superhero chest pound into a dramatic crouch and a cry of _Don’t fear, I’m here to save you_.” He shrugged. “But yeah, guess that works, too.” He looked at the door frame, half expecting a busted lock. He was surprised to see it perfectly intact. “How’d you get in, anyway?”

“It wasn’t locked,” he answered with a shrug as he entered the room. He stopped short at the sight of War and Ten looking on him with curiosity. Well. That is to say that War was looking at him with curiosity, Ten had an expression of amused recognition.

“Jack,” he said with a smirk. “Been a while.” He rolled his eyes. “Not that we’ve met, I mean this you. Know you in the future, when you’re a – how we say – a _different_ kind of man.”

“That would mean older,” he said with a shrug. “With a bit of middle aged weight and a bit of grey at the temples, right?” He waggled a brow. “But I do have to say, I’m certainly going to look forward to meeting you in my future.”

“Yeah, you’d think so…” he answered cryptically.

Nine was still focused on the door. “So. So why wasn’t it locked, then?”

Elizabeth appeared in the doorway, startling Nine enough that he stumbled backward. “Because I was fascinated to see what you’d do upon escaping,” she answered with a smile. The smile fell and she let out a long breath. “I’ve had a moment to speak with your companion.” She gestured toward Jack.

“I’m so sorry,” Ten said with a wince.

“You will be silent,” she said with a sharp look and eyes flared with annoyance at being interrupted. She softened her expression. “Captain Harkness assured me of your fondness for this world, and your continued efforts toward her protection. Therefore,” she waved her hand in a request for them to follow. “I think it’s time you saw what’s about to happen to it.”

~~oooOOOooo~~


	91. Marriage by Sword-blade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth surprises them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... I hope this will tie you over for the next day or so.
> 
> Victoria Day weekend here in Canada ... and I may be expected to do stuff. Not too sure I'll get laptop time during the next couped of days, but I will try!
> 
> Almost at the end of this arc, and closer to our ending... Fingers crossed only one more chapter till we leave the gallery. Gosh, I hope so. 
> 
> I really sincerely hope that you enjoy this chapter. I know it's probably boring, but we're getting there! Promise! Got Ten and BW coming up shortly ... that should be fun. :)

~~oooOOOooo~~

Despite her obvious disappointment and disgust in him, Elizabeth did channel her focus and attention on the pinstriped version of the Doctor rather than any other member of the Time Lord/Companion party. Her discussions were directed toward him only and she refused to answer questions from any one else when they sought clarification. Nine had given up trying after his third question was ignored. War didn’t even bother with it. 

It wouldn’t have been as frustrating if the virgin Queen had spoken with a voice even half as volumous as her skirts. But she wasn’t. She spoke firmly, but a with quiet and conspiratorial tone, as though she didn’t want anyone else hearing her words.

Made sense, he supposed. What little he did hear would seem quite fantastic to anyone outside the group. For certain there would be whispers and accusations that the Queen was losing her sanity. There were plenty of nefarious types waiting in the wings to take her throne from her, and as a woman sitting upon a throne that most felt belonged to a man, it really wouldn’t take too much.

Nine looked up to the high ceilings towering overhead as they emerged from a tight stairwell and strode across flagstone toward another section of the building. This was much more open and airy, definitely less dank and dark, than the room they’d initially all been thrown into. Delicate, intricate stone carving joined the columns to their arches, and he couldn’t hold back a gasp of appreciation. It would never cease to amaze and awe him just how brilliant humankind was back in the ages where there was true majesty in their construction. Buildings that would survive for hundreds of years, in some cases thousands of years.

“Magnificent,” he purred more to himself than anyone else.

War paused his stride and looked upward with an expression remarkably similar to his elder self. “Indeed it is,” he agreed with a nod. “What a shame that construction projects in their future become so much less magnificent and awe inspiring…”

“With a life expectancy only long enough for the next developer or local millionaire to demolish and replace it with a glass and steel monstrosity,” Nine added. “A building like this survives war, bombings, flood, pestilence, fire. Standing tall like a beacon of the strength of mankind.” He looked down as the images of his own world in ruin came to mind. “Not even the Time Lords were capable of creating structures that could survive all that.”

War nodded slowly. “If there was a chance to rebuild,” he said with a sigh. “Then perhaps we could learn from the early architects of this planet.”

Nine snorted with a curl in his lip. Anger replaced awe and he looked toward the man at his side with a darkened glare. “Yeah. Would’a been nice if we had that chance.” He looked back upward. “But we made sure there was no chance of _that_ , didn’t we?”

“How long has it been for you?” War asked his immediate successor with a quiet tone.

“Not long enough, he gruffed. He then tapped at his temple. “Still fresh in here, if you must know.” 

“If you had another choice, what would you have done?”

Nine stopped walking and turned to his younger self. There was fury in his eyes as he pressed the tip of his index finger into his chest. “There _was_ no other choice,” he snarled. “I did what I had to do in order to save the universe. Asking me to pull together a post-mortem of what I did to investigate the possibility of _another choice_ just minimises the sacrifice of _our_ people at _my_ hand.” He looked forward and sniffed hard as he resumed walking, jogging a step to catch up. War was close at his side, his eyes ancient, yet young and curiously looking up at him. “I was alone,” he continued. “I was out of hope. Out of patience. Out of time. I don’t look back on that day thinking _what_ - _if_.” He sniffed hard. “But I might often wonder why. Why me? Why them? Why am I still here and none of them are?” He looked at him with a narrowed gaze. “There. Got what you wanted? Wanna go talk to the pretty lad up there and get _his_ opinion to try and make you feel better about what the universe forced you to do?”

War looked forward to the skinny back of the eldest of them, but he said nothing.

“Even if he does offer you sunshine and ranbows, Doctor,” Nine added. “There’s no way you’re ever gonna feel better about it.”

“At least I can take solace in knowing that we move on,” he managed out hoarsely. “There is that.”

“Yeah, you might think so.” Anything else he had to say on that was halted as they all entered a well-lit room. He immediately recognized the paintings on the wall that had been hanging in the gallery hundreds of years in the future. “Jack,” he breathed out worriedly.

“Yeah,” Jack said with darkened curiosity of his own. “I see it. Still don’t know how…”

Nine looked to his pinstriped self. “Oi, you. Considerin’ you and her majesty here prefer to keep the natter between the two of you. Reckon you can ask her about just how she acquired paintings from the Braxiatel Collection catalogue?”

Elizabeth’s eyes flared with disgust and offence. “Your impertinence knows no bounds, does it?”

“You have no idea,” Jack snorted at his side. He shot him a look of warning and stepped forward to offer the Queen a light and respectful bow. “With all due respect and apology, your Majesty. You will have to excuse my friend, but the paintings hung here are part of the Braxiatel Collection, of which he’s – you know – the owner.”

Ten let out a single sound of realisation that may have slightly resembled a laugh. “Yeah. Didn’t think of that, did I? With Brax gone, I’m the heir to that collection, aren’t I?”

War’s brows pinched. “Brax is gone?” 

“Yeah,” Ten drawled. “Casualty of the war.”

He thought back to the last conversation he had with Braxiatel, and the former Time Lord’s complete and utter devastation. No longer able to regenerate and being very much as jeopardy friendly as he was, the possibility of Brax’s demise really didn’t seem that far out of the realm of possibility. He held his hand to his left heart and dipped his head downward with a Gallifreyan prayer in his mind for his lost brother.

The Queen walked toward one of the paintings and drew a crimson-coloured envelope from behind it. She waked toward Ten and held it to him. “This should answer the question regarding my acquisition of the paintings, Doctor.”

Ten felt the rather swift presence of both of his other selves at his sides as he slipped his finger underneath the flap of the envelope, held secure by a wax seal that bore the crest of Lungbarrow on it. He inhaled a deep breath before popping it free. The envelope fell open, an inner lining of which was a magnificent golden colour. Deep blue ink scrawled with impeccably neat Gallifreyan symbols he’d not used since he was in his fourth body came to luminescent life.

“Thete,” it began with a flourish of artful penmanship. “Despite arguments against it, I was forced to relinquish these Gallifreyan masterpieces from my collection to close off your causal loop. You’re welcome. Brax.” There was a footnote at the end that made him chuckle just lightly. “P.S. Will there ever come a time when you don’t need me to save your arse, brother?” The message ended with an iridescent imprint of the seal of Prydon.

“Eloquent as ever,” Nine muttered with a shrug as Ten folded up the paper back to its envelope shape and pocketed it. “Guess that answers the more burning question I had.”

“Which was what?” Jack asked. He’d attempted to peek at the message but was unable to see anything except what looked to be a cross between Arabic and Chinese script.

Nine held up a hand to ask for silence and focused his attention on the Queen, who appeared quite smug. “Right. We know _how_ you got ‘em. Care to explain just _why_ , and more importantly just how you are even aware that such artwork exists.”

“Matters that truly don’t concern you, Doctor,” she answered with a slow blink of her eye. “As is my lack of surprise, really, that the three of you are the same man.” She flicked her fingers toward a guard, who dragged in a fully exposed Zygon bound with chains. “We’ve been aware of the Zygons and their plans for infiltration and the takeover of my kingdom – and indeed the planet itself.”

Ten tilted his head to one side. “And so rather than explain it, you chose instead to act completely ignorant to it.”

“I had to make sure of your actual intention,” she answered flatly. “Don’t think yourself the first to appear at my castle walls with tales of fancy and promises to save my kingdom.”

“Of course not,” he drawled to himself with a lift of his eyes to the ceiling.

“From what myself and my closest confidents have been able to ascertain,” she flicked her finger toward her prisoner, who held himself in a manner to suggest he or she was barely hanging onto life. “From discussions…”

“You mean torture,” War snarled. He might not have liked the Zygons, but he loathed forcible confinement, torture, and terrorising creatures far more. “This creature barely lives.”

Her eyes flashed angrily. “You would prefer that it was me at their mercy, and have my entire kingdom under the control of these creatures?”

Ten held a hand up toward the Queen, and one toward War. “We can disagree about this later. How about we let her Majesty tell us what she knows and hopefully then we can determine what we need to do to save this planet.” He looked to War. “I don’t imagine that these particular soldiers are the only ones on this planet.”

“You’re correct,” the Queen said with a thankful nod of her head for his support and understanding. “This creature,” she gestured toward the Zygon. “It told us of how the Zygon’s lost their own world.” Her eyes shifted tot eh war-torn version of the Doctor. “It spoke of a war that raged across the universe, an unending battle between the Time Lords and the Daleks.”

“Familiar with it, thanks,” he muttered. “But do go on.”

She looked back to the group as a whole. “The Zygons’ planet burned during the first days of the war. Their home, and everything they knew was decimated. Therefore, a new home was required.”

“And they chose Earth,” Donna queried with a pinch in her eyes. “Of all the planets out there. They wanted this one.”

“Already established,” Ten said with a nod of his head. “A fledgling planet still full of natural resources and an atmosphere well suited to the Zygons.” His lip curled. “Oh, but it’s not quite ready yet, is it? Not quite advanced enough for them to want to take over civilisation. This planet and all her people, they need to grow, evolve. Still a bit too primitive. Technology needs to advance.” He jumped lightly off his toes. “Humans need to get their feet up off the ground and take flight … Otherwise, what’s the point?”

“I’m beginning to wonder that about your little speech there,” Nine muttered. He looked toward the Queen with a slow shift of his eyes from Ten. “How does this involve the paintings, then?”

Elizabeth held up a glass cube, it’s corners cut into deep pits to be almost completely spherical in shape. “This is a somewhat fascinating piece.” She held it out toward Nine, who snatched it quickly and held it in both hands. A wide grin spread across his face as he tossed it from one hand to the other, and then flipped his hand to let it land on the back of his palm. “If you would mind yourself, Doctor. That isn’t a toy.”

“It’s also not very fragile,” he said as he flipped it up over his shoulder and caught it in a hand he shifted across his back to catch it. He held it up and looked at it with awe. “And isn’t it beautiful?”

“What is it?” Donna asked with a lean forward for closer inspection. She wanted to touch it, to feel the smooth surface of it, but wasn’t sure if she’d blow up all of reality if she did anything more than just look at it.

“Stasis cube,” Ten answered for Nine. “A very small, yet very effective portal to another reality.”

Nine held it to her. “Want to touch it?”

Ten’s eyes narrowed at him. “Doctor,” he warned.

“Seriously,” Nine said with a wave of the cube toward her. “I think you’ll be absolutely fascinated by it, and what it will do.” He looked to Ten. “Don’t you think so, Doctor? Should she touch it?”

Ten rolled his eyes. “Oh, what harm could it do?” he gestured to Donna with a smile of encouragement. “Sure. Go ahead. It’s safe.”

She reached out timidly, her eyes focused on Ten as though asking his permission. He rolled his eyes, put his hand over hers, and then pushed their hands onto the glass. In a moment, the pair of them had disappeared from this side of reality.

“Shit!” Jack called out with wide eyes. “There’d they go?”

“Look at the painting,” Nine answered with a flick of his eyes to the desert scene. The bland desert landscape that had been devoid of figures now contained a pair of them in the distance. He purred out with false aww. “Well would you look at the pretty couple they make…”

“That’s insane,” Jack breathed out with shock.

“Parlour trick,” War corrected him with a sniff. “What you see on the wall, what looks to be a simple panting, is not exactly what it looks like.”

“Granddad’s right,” Nine agreed. “There’s a reason it looks like it’s alive, Jack. Because it is. It’s not a picture, it’s a stasis cube.” He sniffed in deeply. “Time Lord photography of sorts.” He looked to Jack. “It freezes instants in Time.”

“A photograph,” Jack clarified as he took a step closer to inspect the frame.

“Not entirely accurate,” War corrected him. “Behind the glass that landscape you see .. is an actual landscape. That’s a real desert, a real rock formation, a real and impossible universe…”

“Locked behind a sheet of glass,” Nine finished. He folded his arms across his chest and looked at the picture. “Time Lord technology, bigger on the inside. A single moment in time captured.”

Jack’s brows came together as he stepped back from the painting. “If what you say is true, then this kind of technology, beautiful as it is to gaze on, can also be deployed as a form of suspended animation, can’t it?”

The Queen entered the explanation at this moment. “This is what we’ve been able to determine,” she said. “While this is certainly fantastic technology that is realms out of what we can ever hope to be capable of reaching, or fighting against…”

“You get there eventually,” Nine offered. “And when I say eventually, I mean a very very very long time from now.”

“If you will stop interrupting me,” she snapped at him. “The future is for the future. I must deal with the present. The magic and witchcraft of future generations will be theirs to conquer.” She looked at the painting, and of the pair of figures now held within. 

“I have to admit that I am rather mystified to all this,” Nine muttered. “Your kind haven’t yet even considered the possibility of life on other planets. Can barely work out what those little twinkling lights are up there in the night sky…”

“Careful,” she warned him.

He snapped a look toward her. “You have to give me this,” he said firmly without releasing the fold of his arms across his chest. “What fancy have you given toward extraterrestrial life? Has the word extraterrestrial even entered the vernacular of your people?” he shook his head. “It hasn’t, and yet you stand here talking about technology that is almost an entire millennia away for the people of this planet, and even then, they aren’t able to wholly advance themselves to this level.” His eyes were suspicious. “Speak of it like it’s nothing. Like we’re in an everyday discussion about space travel, and advanced alien technology.”

“It doesn’t feel right at all,” War agreed.

“I’m not a Zygon,” she clarified. “If that’s the thought in your mind.”

“Are you even human,” Nine queried.

“I am,” she confirmed. “More Human than anyone else in this room. I just happen to be one whose eyes have been opened to what is to come for my people, and for those generations that follow.”

“Yeah,” he drawled. “Still don’t like it.”

“I don’t personally care if you like it or you don’t,” she snapped in reply. “It is the truth.”

“Why didn’t you send out your armies enmasse to defeat them all?” Jack queried. “I mean. You knew you had alien invaders, and yet all you’ve done is pull together some paintings and torture one…”

“We had to know the true extent of the invasion,” she answered. “I may be nothing but a woman in your eyes, Captain. A vessel put on this Earth with the sole purpose of procreation and …”

“Never thought anything of the sort,” he shot back quickly. There was offence in his eyes. 

“I plan carefully with my battle strategies,” she continued with a flare of annoyance in her eyes. “And until I am confident that I know all there is to know about my enemy, I won’t send in my soldiers. I would send them all to their death – which is not who I am as Queen.”

“Good point,” Nine muttered. “So what’re you doing from here, then?” He swallowed thickly, his eyes on the painting. “In a little more than four hundred years from now, these paintings still hang on these walls. There are still Zygons held in stasis, waiting for the best opportunity to pop out and wreak whatever havoc they intend to wreak upon the people of London.”

“Only one thing to do, Doctor, isn’t there?” she asked him flatly. “I allow them to go in.”

“Dunno how you’re going to pull that one off,” he remarked without taking his eyes from the picture. “They know they’ve been discovered now, don’t they?”

She shook her head. “With exception to the one we have holed up here at the Tower, the rest of them are none the wiser to their discovery.” She swallowed and tilted her head in admiration of the picture. “Their commander was expected to take over my form and take the throne.”

“And you’re willing to let them continue to think that?”

“In order to secure them in the pictures, Doctor? Yes.” She exhaled. “I can maintain that visage, and continue to ensure the protection the paintings until such time as you return to stop them. In the future.” She turned to face him. “Can I rely upon you to protect my people in the years that are to come.”

“Been doing that for a long time now,” he admitted on a breath. “Without you askin’ me to do it.”

“Then it shall be done,” she said with a lift of her chin that told all present that she had made her decision and there would be little that could be done to make her change it. She then turned to him. “And in order to assure your vow to me now for the future, to confirm your allegiance and your promise to protect my people….” She smirked to one side. “I will have you make another vow.”

“Which is what?” Nine asked without looking at her. Behind him, Jack snickered and then hummed Mendelssohn’s Wedding march, which lengthened the Doctor’s expression into one of realisation. He looked at the Queen with a shake in his head. “Oh by Rassilon, you can’t be serious.”

“As King of my realm, it will become your duty.”

“We already have a wife,” War offered. “The marriage will not be valid, not for my people, certainly not for yours.”

“A marriage must also be consummated,” Jack said with a smirk. “And while old pinstripes there…” he gestured to the painting. “…While he might’ve played like he might be up for a bit of rough and tumble, I’m not sure he’s up for the follow-through on it.”

“Not if he wants to survive today at any rate,” Nine growled. 

“It is a vow,” Elizabeth said firmly. “Nothing more than that. Your vow to me that my imperilled kingdom will survive in the centuries to come.”

Nine exhaled a breath and tilted his head with disappointment toward the painting. “And here I was thinkin’ I was just going to leave him in there and all.”

~~ooooOOOoooo~~

The false nuptials complete, the Tenth Doctor led the group toward his TARDIS. He was clearly miffed at how the day had gone to this point.

“That was entirely unnecessary,” he gruffed with a hard shove at the door of his ship. “Brings whole new insight into a shotgun wedding…”

“Marriage by sword,” Jack said with a snicker. “See the snipers in the towers with their arrows at the ready in case you tried to run.”

“Oh, haha,” he huffed out as he walked up the ramp toward the console. “Now that that unpleasantry is done with, shall we head back to the 21st?”

Donna wore a smile and still carried the small bouquet of flowers from the short wedding. “Can’t believe you’re King of England,” she said with a snicker. The snicker fell, as did her smile. “But don’t expect me to call you _your highness_ or anything like that.”

“I’d be lucky if you called me _Doctor_ on most days,” he said with a shrug. He looked to the doorway, where the War version of himself gaped with horror at the interior of the ship. “You wanna close the door over there, old man? It might get a bit windy when I pull this lever.”

War looked around with an expression of pain. “What happened to her?”

Both Nine and Ten looked up at the coral ceiling with matching smiles of adoration. Ten was the one to speak. “Isn’t she beautiful like this?”

War dropped his head. “She’s stripped bare.”

“She’s recovering,” Nine corrected him with a point of his finger. “And she doesn’t need you judging the way she looks right now, yeah?” he petted the time rotor column gently and lowered his voice to a parent coddling a crying child. “You ignore old granddad over there. Like he’s in any better shape. Old, wrinkled, beat up, miserable.”

“I can hear you, you know,” he gruffed in reply as he closed the doors behind him and made his way toward the centre console. He made sure to tenderly stroke his hand along coral struts as he passed, muttering words of assurance and apology.

“You all do that, then?” Donna remarked with her brows high on her head. She looked to Ten when he made a sound that asked what she was on about. “Indecently stroke parts of her, spaceman,” she clarified with a wave of her hand to War. “He does it, too.”

“So does this one,” Jack said with a tip of his head toward Nine, who simply smiled in agreement rather than denying it.

“You treat a woman right,” he offered. “And she’ll treat you right _right_ back.” He lifted his head. “Isn’t that right, darling?” 

Donna looked to her own Doctor, then looked down at the mallet. “Yeah. Not going to ask about that, then.”

Ten pointed a finger at her. “Hush, you.” He lifted his eyes to his other incarnations. But of his hands held at separate levers and he offered them both a smile. “So? To the Under Gallery – when are we supposed to show up?”

Nine had to hold himself back from wanting to pilot the TARDIS. Looking as she did, she felt like his and having this nerdy looking pretty boy at her helm was very discomforting to him. “Here, let me.”

“Nope,” Ten said with a pop on the p and a shake in his head. “My TARDIS. No one but me pilots her.”

Nine narrowed his eyes darkly. He spoke through his teeth. November 23, 2013.”

“Got it!” Ten said with cheer. “A rather respectable 451 years from now. Off we go, then, Allonsy!”

“Allon-what?” War yapped with an affronted expression. 

“Allonsy,” Ten repeated quietly, his eyes wide as he pulled at both levers and set the TARDIS into flight. “It’s French. It means…”

“Yes, I know what it means,” he said with a wave of his hand. “But it doesn’t explain why you feel the need to say it. _Off we go_ is good enough.”

“For _you_ , perhaps.”

Jack wandered to the console and made some adjustments to the flight plan. He was quiet as he did so, rather hoping he wouldn’t be caught at it. Unfortunately, however, Ten gave a grunt and stopped him from twisting a dial that would throw them off course.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked with a pinch in his eyes. “I thought I said: _My TARDIS_?”

“Yeah, you did,” he said with a lean down on the console. “But you’re heading to the wrong place, and seeing you were distracted by arguing with the ruggedly handsome version of yourself, I took it upon myself to adjust the coordinates.”

“My input was sound,” Ten argued with affront. He pointed to a small led panel above a dial. “Under Gallery, see?”

“Yeah, well you don’t want to go there,” Jack advised with a shrug. “Zygon’s aren’t there anymore. Followed us to the Black Archive at UNIT HQ.”

Ten’s face creased upward with distaste. “Why’d you need to go there?”

He held up his wrist. “To get this.”

Nine was confused by that. “But yours is in the TARDIS,” he remarked with a lift in his brow. “My message to you was in the tower, not all the way across the city in the Black archives.”

Jack smirked and waggled a brow. “Yeah. I know. But come on, Doc. The Black Archive? A man like me having the chance to go in there – how could I pass that up?”

Ten’s expression shifted to one of acceptance to that response. Honestly, he wouldn’t mind checking it out for himself – maybe covertly relieve them of some of the more dangerous items they shouldn’t have access to at all.”

Jack lifted his brows and gave him a nod of the head. He leaned forward to finish inputting the dinal destination codes. “Oh. You wait until you see what they’ve got in there, Doc. Absolute treasure trove of the dangerous, that place.”

The TARDIS gave a hard pitch that threw every one of them off to the left. She shuddered violently, and then pitched right. Both War and Nine ran toward the console, each taking a specific set of controls in an attempt to bring the centuries-old Time Ship under control.

“What’s happening?” Nine barked out urgently.

“She’s trying to materialise,” Ten snarled through his teeth. He let out a yelp as the ship pitched hard again. “Something’s stopping her.”

“Are your materialisation codes good?” War asked with a sneer of exertion as he tried to keep his balance against the violent pitching and shaking of the ship.

“Take a look for yourself,” he snapped back. “Theyr’e good. All of them.”

War let his hands fly over the console as he double checked each of the settings. “I can’t see what the problem is, then,” he growled out as he was thrown off to the side again. “The TARDIS shouldn’t have any problems at all materialising.”

“Unless…” Ten said with a snarl. He leaned forward and flicked a switch to open a communication line. His eyes shifted to Nine to fire him an unimpressed glare. “Unless they’ve TARDIS-proofed the place.”

“Which would be utterly foolish of them,” Nine said with a tic in his eye. “And how would they even be able to do that?”

“One way to find out.” A single static buzz as the TARDIS connected with the phonelines of the UNIT Headquarters. Ten looked up to the top of the rotor column with his tongue pressed to the back of his front teeth as he waited for the lines to connect. It did so rather quickly, and the command deck of the TARDIS filled with the conversation taking place a the Black Archives. He looked at Nine with a nod of encouragement. “Sound familiar to you?”

“Yeah,” he drawled. He pressed his hands down on the console edge into a lean. “Kate Lethbridge-Stewart, Long time no see,” he said with a smile on his face. “About 451 years if I’m not mistaken.”

“ _Doctor_?” Her voice asked curiously. “ _How_?”

“Space-Time Telegraph, Kate,” he answered with a shrug. “A gift from me to your Dad: Hotline straight to the TARDIS.” His voice intoned somewhat. “Surprised you haven’t used it before now.”

“ _Doctor_ ,” she warned him. “ _Can I get back to you a little later? Bit busy right now_.”

“Yes, I can hear that,” he remarked almost wistfully. “Having quite the conversation with yourself.”

“Indeed,” Ten remarked with a smirk and a lift of his eyes to his Ninth self. “Never heard anything quite like it.” He looked down at his controls, struggling to remain on his feet with the pitching and volleying of his ship. “Kate, we’re trying to bring the TARDIS in. Got any idea why we can’t land?”

There was no definite answer to his question, but there was some heavy arguing going on at the other end of the line.

“Kate?” he pressed again. “I’m aware of the heavy security protocols you have at your Archive, but really? Not allowing the TARDIS in? That’s a little on the heavier side of pretty damn stupid, don’t you think?”

War was as intrigued as he was annoyed. “Tell me they haven’t actually found a way to TARDIS-proof that facility.”

“Alien technology and Human stupidity,” Nine gruffed. His eyes flicked to Jack, who was in the midst of trying to hold Donna on her feet with his arms around her waist, and then back to War. “Hate to say it, but it’s unbeatable.”

Ten let out a growl. “Kate. Don’t be stupid. Release the safety protocol and let us in.”

War’s eyes shifted toward a stasis cube that was seated on the TARDIS console. A smile tipped the very corner of his lips upward. “We don’t need to land,” he breathed out with a smile finally making a full appearance on his aged features.

Ten shot him a look of derision. “Uh. Yeah, we do. Tiny bit.” He couldn’t hide the condescension from his voice, nor expression. “Do try and keep up.”

“How about you try to be less a condescending ass and take a moment to hear my idea.” He held up the cube. “We don’t have to land. We have this.”

“Fantastic,” Nine said with a grin and cheer. “But before we do that, better give me the phone. Have to make a call.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

The heat of Gallifrey’s twin suns shining over the now shattered glass of Arcadia’s majestic dome felt so much hotter than either Nine or Ten had remembered. Both men tugged at the collars of their jacket and blazer and let out identical breaths.

“Is it the suns, the fire all around us, or the destruction of the transduction barrier that’s making it feel so hot?” Ten questioned with a wince. “I really don’t remember Gallifrey being so warm.”

“This is Gallifrey?” Donna asked with a breath of awe followed by a pinch of disappointment in her brows. “Not anything like I thought it’d be.“

“We’re in the middle of a war,” Ten offered her sadly. “The battles have ravaged any beauty she had.” He exhaled an emotion-filled breath. “And Donna, this was once a magnificent sight. So beautiful.”

Nine remained silent in place. The sudden and incredibly painful reminder of a day that wasn’t even a year gone in his time. The sounds of gunfire and explosions in the distance may as well have been firing inside his hearts for how deeply he felt them. “This is the last day,” he breathed out. “Once Arcadia fell, we had no hope left at all.”

War stepped up at his side. “Would you still do it, Doctor?” He waited for Nine to turn his head in his direction to expand on that. “If you had it all to do again, would you still do it.”

Both men answered in the affirmative. Both of them full of pain and full of resolve. “There’s no other way,” Nine added. “No matter how broken my hearts are, and how many screams I still hear inside my head. I would do it again, because I have to.” The hand he held at his side flexed and released as though looking for a hand to hold. A hand that was currently 250 million light years away from him, and in a different time altogether. A small, soft hand did find his, and a woman stepped up at his side, curling her other arm around his. His breath hitched and he tilted his head to look down at her.

“I know I’m not Rose,” Donna said to him supportively. “But will I do for now – at least until you get back to her?”

He looked to Ten, who looked as distraught as he felt. He looked back down at Donna. There was appreciation for her support in his eyes. “Don’t you think you should offer the Doctor you know your affection?”

“Not so raw for him,” she said with a sad smile. “You? Still a gaping wound, and you’re looking for a hand to hold. He’s not.”

“When we leave here,” Ten breathed out. “I’ll have the hand I want to hold, I promise you that, Donna. To hell with the timelines.”

Nine gave him a look of worry. “Not too sure I like the implication of that, Doctor.”

“Yeah,” he drawled. “Neither do I?” he turned away from the shattered dome and inhaled a deep breath to school his emotions carefully away. “Right. Enough sightseeing. Seen enough, ta.”

“ _Exterminate_!”

The Three Doctors spun immediately. With identical movements, each of them drew their sonic screwdrivers and aimed it toward the Dalek.

“Exterminate this,” Nine growled.

The Dalek stuttered and wobbled, unable to move forward under the power of three sonic screwdrivers. It finally let out a cry and finally fell backward. It shattered the glass that stood between them and the interior of the Black Archives with a spark and a splutter. The top detached from the body and rolled noisily along the floor.

As he stepped out of the painting in the lead of the two other Doctors, the Ninth Doctor gave it a firm kick. “Blasted thing,” he growled out with fury. He looked up to the pair of Kates seated at a table and offered a wide grin. “Well hello again. You remember me, I’m the Doctor.”

“Yeah,” Ten muttered with a shrug. He walked with his hands inside his trouser pockets and a twirl in his step as he looked around. He tipped his shoulder to the scrap on the floor. “Sorry about the Dalek.”

Donna looked at Jack with a smirk. “Now _that’s_ an entrance.” She lifted her eyes in a roll and then back down to his. “Might want to work on upping that one, yeah?”

“Don’t need to,” he replied with a shrug. “I was _part_ of that one.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” she said wistfully, her tongue in her cheek. “Ride on someone else’s coattails.” She moved to follow Ten, but was held back by a quick snap of Jack’s hand. She looked at where he held her, then up to his face, which shook slowly in warning. “What’re you doin?”

“This,” he warned her. “This is where we need to take a step back and let them work without us.” His eyes shifted to the table, where the three Doctors were beginning to gather. “Right now, they don’t need us.” He looked to her. “And we don’t need to interrupt them and get involved.”

“Why not?” Her question was not spoken with frustration or ire, more with confusion and fear.

“Because,” he answered along a breath. “What I think we’re standing on right now … It’s going to obliterate the entire city.” He tipped his chin up toward the Doctors. “And the only ones with enough experience to talk them out of what they’re planning to do – are the three of them.”

~~oooOOOooo~~


	92. Gallifrey Falls No More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick trip to Gallifrey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are at the end of the Day of the Doctor.
> 
> I hope beyond all that I've made clear what happened back on Gallifrey with BW, and why it all had to happen the way it did. If I haven't been able to do that in this chapter, then I'm throwing my hands up. 
> 
> This chapter killed me today..... Didn't want to have to have it go over another day, so I had to scramble to get it all in one chapter. 
> 
> I very much hope you enjoy!

~~oooOOOooo~~

Aged and weary, the War Doctor chose to sit in a comfortable armchair and merely observe the negotiations taking place at the table between a human, a Zygon, and a pair of Time Lords. They didn’t need him for this. The elder versions of him were far more equipped to handle this on their own.

A cup of milky tea sat in a gilded cup set atop a matching saucer on the arm of the chair. He’d managed only a small sip of it thus far. Despite the need for a decent cup of tea – something sorely lacking in his life these past few centuries – he really couldn’t bring himself to partake too eagerly. His stomach was far too unsettled from the anxiety of what was to come for him. He didn’t want to draw in a taste, retch, and then never be able to small tea ever again in any of his lives without wanting to retch again.

Instead, he drew his fingertip along the gilded rim of the cup and gazed off into the distance, not focusing on anything except the decision that was now settled inside his mind. A quick swirl of red hair across the front of him finally drew his attention and he looked up from his seat into the face of the companion that was travelling with the eldest of the three men.

“Donna,” he breathed out in greeting.

“Doctor,” she replied in kind. She lowered herself into an armchair that perfectly matched the one he was seated on and leaned back into the full cushion. She crossed her legs at the knee and leaned an elbow on the armrest to look at him through a comfortable slouch. “Surprised you know my name, considering we haven’t been properly introduced yet.”

He gave her a smile. “I listen far more than I let on,” he admitted. “And your Doctor…” He tipped his chin in that direction. “…Well he certainly seems very fond of you.”

“Not in _that_ way,” she said with a chuckle. “Not quite each other’s type if you get my meaning.” She looked at Ten, then looked back to War. “But yeah. He’s my best mate. And I hope he feels the same about me as I do him in that regard.”

“I’m quite sure he does,” he answered with a warm smile. “And you do seem quite adept at keeping him in line.”

“Hardly,” she barked with a laugh. “That space cadet over there. Keeping him in line is a bit of an impossibility.” She shrugged. “I do try my best though, and there are times I reckon I’m getting through to him.”

“Then keep trying,” he encouraged her. “There’s one thing I know about me, Donna, and that’s that I _need_ someone. I always need someone reminding me who I am and where I need to be.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course you can.” He straightened up in his chair and moved the teacup from the arm of his chair to place on a small silver side table. “What can I help you with?”

She let out a breath and pressed her lips together as though trying to find the best starting place. After a moment, she released the hold of her lips and pushed herself up from her lean to press back heavily into the cushion at her back. “The Doctor … And I mean _my_ Doctor, as in the one I’m with now..”

“I get what you’re saying,” he cut in gently. “No need to strive for the distinction.”

“Ta,” she said with a small laugh. “But anyway. I mean. I know about the day he had to do it, that he had to stop the Time Lords to stop the war.”

“It’s much more than that,” the Doctor corrected her gently. “It’s not just stopping the Time Lords. It’s the complete destruction of Gallifrey and every living thing on the planet.”

“You’re talking in current tense, not past,” Donna remarked with a gasp. Her eyes flew wide and she shifted quickly to lean forward in the chair. “You haven’t done it, yet, have you?”

“What I have and haven’t done is really none of your concern,” he warned her with a small tilt of his head. “Tenses … Well … They can be a struggle to maintain at times.”

Donna shook her head. “No. That’s not it. Tenses aren’t your problem at all.”

“You’d be surprised.”

She leaned further forward. The cross of her legs released to slightly parted knees, and she leaned down, her elbows on her knees. “If you still have time,” she offered with quiet eagerness. “If you haven’t done it yet, and are still deciding.” She looked to her Doctor, and then back to him. “He regrets it, you know. I can see it. See the pain in his eyes.”

“Yes, yes,” War said with a huff. “And if thee was any other way it could be done, then he’d have done it.” He shook his head with impatience. “Hindsight, as they say, is 20/20. For every decision we make that we don’t end up liking, we will always look back and see a second choice, another option. But, Donna…” he drew in a breath and his voice fell to a hoarse whisper. “Sometimes there simply aren’t other options. Even if we look back and think there might be, there just aren’t.”

“He regrets it,” she pushed with a whine in her tone. “Every day he regrets that decision.”

War tilted his head to one side. “And how many worlds have been saved because of that regret,’ he asked her with honesty, and no condescension at all. “How many worlds were saved in the initial moments of that decision. How many has he saved since?” He looked to the table. “Look over there. Humans and Zygons are working together, in peace, because of this regret. Millions of lives saved today because of his regret.”

“There’s not going to be any way to change your mind, is there?” she asked him sadly. “You’re going to go through with it.”

“I have no choice,” he admitted sadly. His eyes dropped to his knees, and then lifted slowly; not enough to look at her eyes, just enough to settle on her waist. “But I can take comfort in knowing that there will be survivors of my species, that the Time Lords, and Gallifreyans, men and women, children, soldiers…” he drew in a deep breath and finally lifted his eyes to hers. “Thousands of survivors, Donna. Thousands upon thousands of my people safely tucked away here on Earth.”

“Protected by the ones who love you the most,” she added. “Your family, Doctor.” She was able to smile just a small fraction of a grin. “He never had that. My Doctor.” She looked to Ten. “He never believed that any of them survived. Losing his family, his brother…” she looked back at him. “I think that’s what hurt him the most.” She looked back to him with a pinch of question in her eyes. “At least in this timeline, you have that.”

“In this timeline?” he queried. He then shook his head. “Dear Donna, this has _always_ been the timeline.”

She shook her head. “But it can’t be. Because if you have all this, and he doesn’t…” She was horribly perplexed in her expression. “he truly believes that he’s the last of them. How can he believe that if it’s not true?”

War shrugged. “The rules of the game, I suppose,” he said after a deep inhale. He looked over Donna’s shoulder toward the Bad Wolf who stood invisibly behind her chair. “I think I’m ready now,” he said softly.

“I know,” the Bad Wold replied she leaned down to blow against Donna’s ear, and attempt to draw her attention away from the dematerialising Doctor. 

Donna flipped up her hand against the breath and then turned sharply to look behind her. Seeing no one there, she turned back to talk to the War Doctor once more. She gasped to find he was gone and lifted her back to sit tall and look around the room for where he might’ve run to. “Doctor?”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Within a breath, the Doctor stood on the sands of Gallifrey once more. The suns overhead beating down upon the wooden structure had not shifted even an inch, despite him having been gone for hours. He strode across the dusty barn floor with slow yet deliberate strides and paused at the weapon still silent on the floor. The red rose that had sat atop a golden stem was now a big red ruby stone that glistened with the rays of sunlight beaming in through the gaps between slats.

“My big red button,” he huffed to himself as he admired the way each smooth facet of the stone caught the rays of the suns and reflected it off the walls. “How very kind of you.”

“I do my very best,” she purred with a smile as she walked around to stand on the other side of the box to him. She looked at him with carefully guarded eyes. “Are you very sure of this, Doctor?”

“I really didn’t need your little jaunt into my future to be sure,” he answered gruffly. “My mind was already made up when I came here with you on my back.”

“It really wasn’t,” she corrected him with a lowered head. “Iefyou were, then you wouldn’t have needed me to whisper in your ear.”

“I don’t need anyone whispering in my ear,” he growled with a curl in his lip. “Noone to try and change my mind. This is what needs to be done to save the entire universe.”

“One big bang,” she sang out with sadness in her voice. Her eys fell out of focus and shifted to one side wistfully. “Just one touch of that button, and there is no Gallifrey, no Time Lords, no Daleks.”

“There will be Time Lords,” he corrected her sharply. “There are survivors.”

Her eyes snapped fast to his, glowing with furious amber. “And you think I’ll let you remember that, Doctor? Do you think you’ll leave here with knowledge that anything survived what you intend on doing?” She shook her head. “You don’t deserve that solace, Time Lord. You don’t deserve to feel that there is anything left.”

“Then so be it,” he breathed out. There was emotion in his tone, a shake in his voice, a wet sniff of an inhale. “I will do what has to be done.”

“Even seeing what you become?” she pressed. “Those men?”

“Extraordinary,” he admitted with pride. “Those men. They are the Doctor.”

“So are you,” she offered him. “You are, and always will be the Doctor.”

He gave her a rueful smile and let out a light huff and shook his head. “No. I haven’t been the Doctor in a very long while. I had forgotten what it was to be the Doctor.” He smiled at her and let his flattened palm hover over the top of the ruby button. “And so. If that’s my future, then I’ll embrace it.” 

“You know the sound the TARDIS makes,” she offered in a rush. She panted a pair of breaths when he hesitated. “That wheezing, groaning sound..”

“Of course I do,” he snarled out. 

“It’s a sound of hope,” she continued quickly. “A sound that offers hope and salvation wherever it goes.”

“Depending on who you are,” he added. “I’d like to think that it does.”

“For those that need it,” she assured him. “For those who are lost and need the Doctor.” She looked to the end of the barn as the sound of the TARDIS Dimensional Stabilisers howled out their materialisation sound. She looked back to him. “Even you.”

The Doctor’s hand still hovered over the button. His eyes shifted to the back of the barn toward a pair of TARDISes that had materialised. The doors to both of them opened and four people, two Time Lords, two Humans, stepped out into the dusty barn.

Donna was at the lead of the group. She gestured toward War, but looked back to Ten. “I told you,” she huffed out urgently. “He hasn’t done it yet.”

“What are you doing here?” War gruffed out angrily. “You need to leave. Go now.” He looked back at the box. “You’ve both been here already, now is my time.”

Ten was clearly unnerved and uncomfortable as he walked in a slow twirl to wake look around. His voice was low and concerned. “These events. They should be time Locked,” he warned worriedly. “We shouldn’t be here.”

Nine’s focus was on the box in the floor, and the man whose hand still hovered an inch above the big button. His gaze was narrowed and furious. “Well somethin’s let us through,” he growled. “Though just why I don’t know. Continued torture?”

War looked to his Ninth self and mirrored the fury in his eyes. “Then leave,” he snarled. “Get back to your lives; back to saving worlds and civilisations. Go back to being the Doctor that I could never be. Leave. Leave this to me.”

Both Doctors took opposite sides of the box, keeping their war-torn self at their side. Ten shared his gaze between the pair of them. “All those years spent as you, never believing myself to be anything more than a warrior – a man operating under orders from a council of men who would never see the field of battle…”

“From the fires of regeneration I lost my way,” Nine admitted darkly. “A warrior form chosen because I couldn’t ever believe myself capable of leading the battle as the man I was. I cast off my name in my own mind, promising to suppress myself and everything I had to become…”

“Yet,” Ten breathed out wistfully, his eyes wide but not focused on anything. His eyes cleared and he looked toward War. “Yet you were the one. The one who had to be the Doctor on the day it wasn’t possible to get it right.” He looked finally down to the red button and placed his hand over the hand of the War Doctor. “But this time…”

“You don’t have to do it alone,” Nine finished for Ten as he placed his hand on top of Ten’s. “Because you’ve got us: The Doctors on days it’s possible _and_ impossible to get it right.” He exhaled. “Some days … some days no one survives at all.”

War sniffed deeply and nodded his head. “Thank you.”

“What we’re forced to do today,” Ten began. “It’s not done out of fear or hatred. It’s done because there’s no other way.”

Nine swallowed thickly, the memory of this still so raw in his mind. “And is done in the name of all of those we are failing to save…” He shot a glance toward a peep of a sound from is companion. “What is it, Jack?”

Jack closed his eyes and shook his head. “Nothing, Doctor. You do what you need to.” He gave a sad smile. “If I could step up at your side and do it with you, I would.”

“You don’t need this on your conscience,” Nine offered with a wry smile. “But thanks for the support.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not in support of this,” Donna snapped out. She looked to Ten. “Doctor!”

He lifted his head with a hard sigh and then shifted his head to look at her. “Donna, what?”

“You told me that you wiped out your people,” she said with a waver in her voice. “That with a press of a button you ended it all. Ended the Time War and lost everyone.”

“You didn’t believe me?” he asked tiredly.

“Yeah,” she managed. She then pointed to the three of them and the big button. “But believing you, and then seeing you actually do it? Doctor. This isn’t right. None of this is right. This isn’t _you_.”

“Yes, Donna, it is me,” he corrected her. He withdrew his hand and turned to face her fully. He petted his chest between his hearts. “This is what I do. This is what I _had_ to do to save the universe. If you don’t want to watch, then you don’t have to. Go into the TARDIS.”

“They should both be in there anyway,” War said flatly. “Our companions don’t need to see this. They don’t need the image in their minds of us destroying it all.”

“Then let them see this,” Bad Wolf whispered into the ear of War. “Let them take a closer look at what you’re about to destroy.”

The room around them darkened and opened up to have them all standing in the midst of the Time War. More intense than the image they’d all waded through earlier, the group were surrounded by shattered buildings, torn drapes and flags, fire and rubble … and the voices of terrified innocent civilians: Women, children, men, grandparents.

“What? What is this?” Donna asked with dismay, her hands flying to her mouth in horror. 

“It’s a projection,” War offered. 

“Reality,” Nine corrected darkly. “This is the reality outside the barn right now. In the city only a short TARDIS flight away.”

“These?” Donna could barely speak. Her hands still covered her mouth and her eyes were red and soaked when they gazed upon her Doctor. “ _These_ are the people you’re going to _burn_?”

“There isn’t any other way,” he offered her with as much emotion as she displayed. “If there was, don’t you think I’d take it?”

“He’s right,” Nine huffed. “There isn’t another way. There never was. In order for the universe to survive, then my people have to burn.”

“Can’t you put it another way than that?” she asked him with a gulping sob, one followed that when she saw a young boy in tattered red robes and a face streaked with tears cower in a corner. “I can’t. I just can’t.”

“She’s right,” Ten said with an emotionally stained and ragged voice. “I don’t know if I can. Not again.” He looked toward the other two. “This isn’t right. We can’t do this.”

“We have to,” War corrected him. “There is no other choice.”

Ten’s face tightened up into a wince of disgust. He quickly pulled the sonic screwdriver from his coat pocket and held it toward the box with an outstretched arm. “No more,” he declared firmly and activated the sonic. He pocketed it and gave both men a smug expression as he pocketed his sonic. Smugness turned to a wide grin. 

Nine looked at the box. Both his hands were held down toward it, open, almost willing to take it and run toward another barn to activate the damn thing without Sonic the Hedgehog stopping him. “What are you playing at?” he snarled. “We are out of time.”

“You know what?” Ten asked with a smirk, his hands finding their way into his trouser pockets. He walked around the box but didn’t look down at it. “I’ve had some time to think about this. A few years of sleepless nights, and one really long year where I had little else to do but think about it, and you know what? I’ve changed my mind.”

Jack smirked. “You’re not seriously suggesting that you change your own future, are you?”

“We change history all the time.” Ten gave him a wink. “What I’m suggesting is far worse.”

Jack was intrigued, and even slightly excited by the prospect. “Oh yeah, that’s what I wanna hear. What do you have in mind, and how can I help?”

“Jack, down boy,” Nine warned as he folded his arms across his chest and huffed as he looked toward the Time Lord he truly believed had just completely lost his mind. All the threads of sanity now gone. “Right,” he said as he thumbed at his nose. “One point of note that you have appeared to forget, Doctor. There’s still about a billion Daleks out there attacking Gallifrey and all her children.”

War nodded slowly. He felt the knock at his subconscious that was obviously a request for contact form his elder self. He let his shields fall and locked his eyes on the older and the very excited man in a pinstriped suit. “There are. Millions of the mongrels.”

“Yeah,’ Ten drawled. “But there’s one thing those millions of mongrel Daleks don’t know,” he offered. He looked to Donna. “Because if they did, they’d probably call in for reinforcements.”

“What?” Donna puffed out with eager curiosity. “What don’t they know, Doctor?”

“This time,” he answered with a dark smile and a curl of his hand in front of him. “There’s three of us.” He shifted his mind toward Nine, who seemed to be more resistant to contact then their younger version. His excitement fell and he stared at him. “Well? Contact, Doctor?”

“Fine,” he muttered with a roll of his eyes. “Contact.”

Ten grinned as he fed his plan toward his two younger selves via mental connection. He could see the very point at which realisation dawned in each of them. If it wasn’t the glint in their eye, or the shift in their postures, it was at the very smug and dangerous expression of darkness that crossed over their expressions.

Nine let out a deep chuckle. “Oh. That’s fantastic, that is.”

War exhaled an almost victorious huff. “Oh! Oh, yes! That’s brilliant. Genius!”

Ten waggled his brows. “It’s amazing what one can come up with when they spend a year locked in a tiny little cage on an aircraft carrier in the sky.” He looked to Donna. “ _Very_ Avengers.”

War held his fists up in the air, victory blazened across his aged features. “Oh. She didn’t just show me my future,” he cheered. “She showed me _exactly_ the future I needed to see!”

Nine gave him an odd look. “Eh. Who did what?”

“Bad Wolf Girl,” he called out. “I could _kiss_ you!”

Ten’s excitement waned for a moment. He narrowed his eyes at War. “She still around, then?” He lifted his head and twirled an angry spin. “Oi! Bad Wolf. Don’t you dare leave before I’ve had a chance to have a word with you.” He looked around the barn, but saw nothing except his Ninth self looking at him like he’d completely lost his mind. He stopped his turning and cleared his throat. “Yep,” he popped out. “Where were we?”

“You had a plan,” Donna said excitedly. 

“Oh we do,” he said with a flick of his head and a wide grin. 

Her breath was short and panted. “Well, you going to share with the class, or what?”

War opted to pick up this one for his elder self who was grinning so hard he wasn’t quite sure if he could actually speak around the smile. “The Dalek fleets, they’re surrounding Gallifrey, firing on it constantly.”

She nodded, her eyes wide. “Yeah?”

Nine took over here. “The Sky Trench is holding, but what if the whole planet disappeared?”

“I’d say that you’ve completely lost your mind and entered la la land,” she answered, although her eyes still wore excitement. “But then again, this is _you_. You’ve pulled of weirder shit than this.”

“But if it could be done,” Ten said with his grin still firmly in place. “Then the Daleks would be firing on each other.” He motioned the firing of guns with his finger and then crossed his wrists. “They’d destroy themselves in their own crossfire!”

War was so gleeful at the idea that his face dropped at least fifty years. His face was a youthful glow of excitement. “Gallifrey would be gone, the Daleks would be destroyed, and it would look to the rest of the universe as if they’d annihilated each other.”

“Okay,” Jack breathed out curiously. He held onto his excitement if only to appear to be the only one of the group that hadn’t completely lost their mind. “But where would Gallifrey be?”

“Frozen,” Ten answered him with a wide grin as he cupped Jack’s face with both hands. “Frozen in an instant of time, safe, and hidden away.”

“Like a painting,” Jack said on a breath, his eyes and smile widening together. “Like a damn painting!”

Ten still had hold of his face. “Brilliant, isn’t it?”

Jack quickly lifted his hands to clutch at Ten’s face. Without warning, he launched forward and pressed a hard kiss on the Doctor’s face. His eyes closed at the contact, so he didn’t see Ten’s entire expression lengthen in shock. He pulled away with a loud smacking sound. “Oh,” he purred out as he released the gasping Doctor from his hands. “I’ve been wanting to do that since I first saw you.”

Ten spluttered and staggered backward. When Nine laughed at him, he gave him a firm point of his finger. “Laugh it up – he’ll be doing it to you soon enough.”

War clapped his hands. “Well? What are we waiting for?” His grin was wide. “Let’s save Gallifrey!”

~~oooOOOooo~~

Three blue TARDIS Police Boxes lined the wall of the Under Gallery. The pilots of each machine stood at the face of a large 3D painting, admiring the image rather than feeling pain from it.

“I suppose we won’t know if we ever succeeded,” War said after a small sip of hot milky tea. “But at worst, we failed at doing the right thing as opposed at succeeding in doing the wrong.”

“Bet you’re a hit at parties,” Donna gruffed with amusement. “Life and soul, you are.”

Ten took a sip from his own cup of tea and then tilted his head at the painting. “What is it called, anyway?”

“It’s got a few names,” Jack muttered as he held his vortex manipulator at it, and then drew it back to look at the readings. “According to this, the most commonly used names are: No more, and Gallifrey Falls.”

“Well,” War said with a sigh. “Not exactly encouraging, is it?”

“It can’t stay here,” Ten said breathily. “Not anymore.” He reached out a hand to touch at the glass covering the painting. “Back to the Braxiatel Collection for you, I think.”

Nine gave a nod of his head in agreement. “Too right,” he said.

Donna looked toward the both of them. “But it’s part of this gallery,” she ventured. “What if they won’t let you take it?”

Ten didn’t look at her, but his jaw tightened enough that a dimple formed in his cheek. “They don’t have the choice,” he answered coolly. “This is a frozen moment of time in my planet’s existence. It belongs elsewhere.” 

“Noone here would ever be able to appreciate it,” Nine added. “Not like we do.”

War rolled his shoulders, feeling an uncomfortable sensation inside his belly. A small belch released a breath of amber, and he knew that his time in this incarnation was drawing to a close. “Well, gentlemen,” he said after a moment. “It’s been a pleasure, and honour, and a privilege.”

Ten chuckled. “Said no Doctor ever toward another version of himself.” At his side, Nine smirked.

“Then let it be said that there was at least one instance where the Doctor was able to not only get along with, but was able to respect himself,” War amended with his own amusement. He gave both of them a firm Gallifreyan salute, the final one he would ever snap attention to. He wasn’t surprised when both Nine and Ten gave a lazy two-fingered salute of their own. “Until I become you, and we do this again.” He looked to Donna. “And you, Donna, I do look forward to meeting you in my future.”

She made a sound of happiness and adoration as she pulled him into a tight hug. “Until then, you keep being a loveable dumbo spaceman, okay?”

He chuckled and returned her embrace. “I will do my very best.” He pulled back and held her shoulders to give her a tender smile. He still held her shoulders when he looked toward Jack. “I would express gratitude and perhaps an eagerness to meet you for the first time, Captain. However, the threat that I may end up accosted and treated to a somewhat passionate embrace cautions me from it.”

“Wouldn’t worry about it,” Jack said with amusement. He circled his finger around his nose and chin. “Not a facial hair kind’ve bloke. You’re quite safe.” He tilted his head to Nine. “I’ll accost him on your behalf instead, howzabout that?”

“Appreciated,” he answered, chuckling at the affronted sound emitted by his next self. He then adjusted his jacket, clutched his fingers into a fist and walked toward his TARDIS. He paused at the door. “I;m not going to remember this, am I?”

Both Nine and Ten shook their heads. It was Ten who answered, though. “Our Time streams are out of synch. It’s impossible to retain it, I’m afraid.”

His head dropped. “So I won’t remember that I tried to save Gallifrey rather than burn it.” He lifted his head and sighed to the light atop his TARDIS. “I’ll have to live with that.” He looked back to Ten and gave a weak smile. “But at least for now. For this moment, I _am_ the Doctor again. Thank you.”

“You always were,” Ten offered to his retreating form as War stepped into the TARDIS. He watched it dematerialise. “I’ll remember it for you,” he vowed. “And it’s only a few more years for you.”

“A few more hellish ones of pain and nightmares,” Nine said with a huff. “And a few more for me as well, it seems.”

“You at least have Rose to go home to when we’re through here,” Ten said. “That’s something. Her love eases that pain for you.”

“And you?” he questioned. “You return to her from here as well?”

Ten nodded slowly. Determination hardened his eyes. “Oh yes,” he breathed out. “Oh most definitely yes. There’s no power in this entire universe that can stop me.”

“Rassilon,” Nine breathed out warningly. “Don’t go and say something stupid like that while the universe is listenin’. Tempt it and all.”

“Where are you headed now?”

Nine pursed his lips. “I promised Rose Kyoto tonight,” he answered. “She wanted to try Japanese food, figured I’d take her to Japan.”

Ten turned to him. His smile was flat and his eyes imploring. “Do me a favour, Doctor. Make this night one she will never forget. Reassure her that she is the most important thing in your entire universe. Love her like you’ve never loved her before.”

“With everything I’ve got in me to give,” Nine vowed with a firm nod of his head. “It’s been a day, and right now I think I need her more than I ever have.”

Behind them Donna let out a long groan of discomfort. She stuffed her fingers in her ear and sung out: “lalalala. Not hearing this.” Jack, on the other hand, leaned against the side of the TARDIS with full attention to hear just what would come next.

“Good man,” Ten said with a firm nod and then a glare of warning toward Jack.

“Any particular reason why?” Nine pressed.

“Because she deserves no less of you,” Ten said with a sigh. “No less of either of us.”

“On that note,” Nine said with a clap of his hands. “Hung around here a bit longer than I ever wanted to. Hung around you as well. Best be off.” He opened an arm to welcome Donna inside. He smiled against her hair when she accepted his invitation and curled herself in around his side. “Now if I met you again, I wouldn’t be entirely upset. Think you and I could have one hell of an adventure together.”

“Missed opportunity,” she said with a sigh as she pulled back from him. She sidled up toward Jack and gave him a smile. She then let out a squeal when he shot forward and gave her a hug that lifted her off the ground.

“Missed opportunity alright,” he agreed. “Though would it really be a paradoxical disaster if we stole you off now for a quick one?”

“Depends what kind of _quick one_ you’re thinking of, Captain,” Ten muttered with a sniff as he grabbed Donna’s arm to free her from Jack’s grasp. “And knowing you, it’s far more seedy and nefarious than you’d have any of us believe.” He then looked to his younger self. “Good luck over the next little while, Doctor. You’re going to need it.”

“Cheers for that nice little bit of careless forshadowing,” he growled. He flicked his fingers to Jack. “Come on, you. Best we head off before old sandshoes over there gives me a detailed report – including notations – about my future to his point.” He walked into the TARDIS behind Jack, and gave both Donna and Ten a two-finger salute from his temple. 

Ten returned the salute. Donna gave him a wave. They both watched the TARDIS dematerialise and then turned back toward the painting. Both of them taking a seat on a padded, cushioned bench on front of the painting.

“Do you think it worked?” she asked him after a second.

“I have no idea,” he answered on a breath. “And I don’t know that I’ll ever know for sure.” He swallowed. “But at least I know now that I tried. That if we weren’t successful, at least we tried.” He shifted his gaze to Donna. “Do you mind? I mean, do you think you could give me a minute.”

“Course,” she answered with a pet to his knee. “I’ll wait inside for you.”

“Thanks,” he breathed. He waited a moment until he heard the creak of the TARDIS doors, and the light snick of its lock, and then looked back to the painting. He inhaled deeply and simply gazed at it a while, wondering if an when he’d ever know if Gallifrey still remained somewhere out there, thriving…

“Turns out you didn’t need me at all,” Rose’s voice breathed out at his side.

The Doctor gasped out in shock and shot to his feet. There was an expression of quiet desperation on his face and he swayed just slightly at the sight of her beside him. “Rose?”

She shook her head and gave a light huff of a laugh as she looked down and held her clothing. “Rose Tyler has worn some unique styles in her life, but she never was one for the tattered appearance.

“Who are you?” he asked with a growl. “Who _are_ you?”

She took a seat on the bench and looked at the painting. “I am…” She exhaled. “You know who I am, Doctor. You don’t need to ask.”

“Bad Wolf,” he said with loathing in his tone.

“I told you, you didn’t need to ask,” she said with a shrug, not in the slightest bit perturbed by his ire. She kept her eyes on the image ahead of her. “You said you had a few words you wished to have with me.”

He did. Oh by Rassilon he had words for her. More than a few. He had rehearsed in his mind the litany of words he wanted to have with her. Unfortunately, however, now that she was here and he had his opportunity, he was at a loss for them. If only because he couldn’t find the right starting point. He made do with dropping heavily onto the bench beside her to stare ahead at the painting.

“Why?” was all he could think of asking. “Why was this all necessary?”

She turned her head to him. “Why was it necessary to bring you all together like I did?” Her brow pinched. “Well. You’re a clever boy. I figured you already knew the answer to that.”

He shrugged and his face lifted in a light grimace. “Well _yes_ , I got that part of things well enough. Save Gallifrey, don’t use the Moment to burn it.”

“Which you didn’t,” she said with a smile and a breath of relief as she looked back to the painting. “I still exist, unused by the Time Lords – any of them – for a nefarious purpose.” She exhaled. “And I thank you for that. My activation is not something I ever wish to come to pass.”

“You’ll cease to exist anymore if we do.”

“Yes, that _is_ true,” she breathed out. “But it isn’t the sole reason for me wanting to live on and not be used.” She exhaled long. “Noone uses a weapon for positive reasons. Oh, they might think their intent is pure and that they’re using me for the greater good – but it comes with so much collateral damage. I don’t want to be part of that.” She shook her head. “To use your words, Doctor. No more. I don’t ever want to be in that position ever again.”

“So what are you asking me to do?” he asked with a lift in his shoulder and a deep breath. He felt he already knew the answer to that particular question. “What is it you want?”

“Destroy me,” she answered simply. “Don’t ever allow even a remote possibility for me to be used ever again.”

“And why should I grant you that,” he half spat. “After what you did to me? After what you took from me?” His voice was shaking. “And I don’t even know why you had to do it, or what purpose if served you.”

“To bring us here,” she admitted. “To this place. To where you would first be willing to wield me, and then willing to save me.” She looked at him. “And then ultimately destroy me.”

“I really don’t follow you,” he said with a huff. “Which is saying something, really. Usually I can follow even the most convoluted and broken paths of thought.”

“You already know more than you should,” she said to him with a shift of her eyes back to the painting. “My sneaky boy. You and your younger self conspiring against my carefully laid plans. Sneaky and tenacious, finding the loopholes and working through them.” She saw his smile at the accusation. “And of course, I didn’t expect that you would take it quietly. Not you. Not the Doctor.” He smile fell. “You’d find a way. You always would.”

“Then why do it at all?”

“Tell me, Doctor.” She looked at him. “You and Rose, and your little family. If you had remained happily married. Would you have accepted your call to arms and fought in the war like you did? Would you have become the man who dragged me from the Omega Arsenal and into a rotted-out barn in the middle of nowhere?” She looked back to the painting. “Or would you have run away, like always? Hidden them and yourself as far from the war as you could, never to join the fight?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I really don’t know the answer to that question.”

“I do,” she said with a sniff and a nod of her head. “You would have run. You would have run and never stopped.”

He shook his head. “I would have joined…”

“You had to be threatened by the Pythians,” she corrected sharply. “Even when you had no other choice in the matter, you were willing to choose death over joining the fight. You had to have them find a way to force yourself to regenerate into a man willing to fight, because you knew you were unable to do it as the man you were.”

Ten blinked back a tear at the memory of Cass, and how her death affected him so immensely, despite him only knowing her for mere moments. He didn’t speak to it, though.

She continued. “I knew that if you weren’t alone, and in a place of sorrow, then you wouldn’t have joined the fight. And I very likely then would have ended up in the hands of Rassilon instead of you.” She inhaled deeply. “I couldn’t risk that. I couldn’t risk any other Time Lord wielding my power. The only one of you I could trust … was _you_.” 

“You didn’t have to take them from me,” he scolded darkly. “The war was centuries, her life … so short by comparison.” He exhaled shakily. “When she was gone, then I could have…”

“And not have her to return to right now?” she queried. “Yes, indeed. You could have lived with her until her end. Made a half-arsed attempt to fight and be killed on the battlefield to join her again…” She inhaled and shrugged a shoulder. “Or fought and lived on as half a man.” She looked at him. “But this way, you return home to her. A full life left ahead of you both.”

His eyes widened as he looked to the floor.

“I can give it all back to you,” she offered. “As a reward to you – for destroying me. Everything you lost, every memory erased. All of it. I can give it all back.”

His face tightened up into a contortion of pain at realising that he’d been more than successfully played. “This was always you plan then?” He huffed out. “It wasn’t to save Gallifrey, was it. It wasn’t even to force me into battle or any of the nonsense you just sprouted off. It was to force me to destroy you.”

“Means to an end, yes,” she admitted. “I suppose I can’t exactly deny it.” She blinked and looked back up to the painting. “I see it all. I see everything. All that was, all that is, and all the possibilities. Of all the available pathways, this was the only one that would put us both together here and now. Both of us needing something that we can only get from each other.”

“I can find her without you,” he corrected her darkly. “I know where she is. I don’t need the memories I’m missing. I can make new ones.”

“Without your side of the bond,” she corrected him on a whisper. You’ll only have a half life with her, Doctor. If you want the fullness of love and life with Rose Tyler – then you very much need me.”

“Blackmail,” he said with a drop of his head to look at his knees. He shook his head. “Just when I thought you couldn’t sink any lower.”

“We can always sink lower,” Bad Wolf admitted. “Never think anyone’s not capable of it.” She looked at him with question in her eyes. “Will you destroy me, Doctor?”

“I really want to tell you to rack off and find someone else to do it,” he answered her. “But you’re right. You’re too dangerous.” He looked up. “And I can’t afford to have you continue to snake your way around my life and my timeline like you are.” He shook his head. “ _You_ make me dangerous. _You_ make me become something unsafe and unrecognisable.”

“Is it your vow, then, Doctor?” she asked him. “Will you vow to me that before we leave this room, that I’ll be rendered inactive, permanently. Never to be called upon again?”

He removed his sonic from his pocket and worked on a few of it’s setting with a press of his thumb. “My vow to you, Bad Wolf. Is that you’ll be no more than a very heavy paperweight.” He showed her the setting on his screwdriver. “That one. That’ll be the one that does it.” He swallowed and pointed it toward her. “Ready?”

“Not me,” she said with a shake of her head. “I’m just the interface. You need to use that on the actual weapon. The one inside your TARDIS, hidden deeply inside one of her many hidden closets.

“Yes,” he said with a light wince. He pocketed the Sonic and slowly drew himself to a stand. “Best I go find where I put you then, isn’t it?”

She drew up quickly at his side and touched her hand to his arm. “Wait,” she said breathily. “Before you do that.”

He turned to her with an exhausted and defeated expression on his face. “What now?”

“I made a vow to you, Doctor,” she said as she stepped toward him. “Let me give you back what you lost. What I took from you. All of it, Doctor.” She took a step forward, curled one hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down to press her lips tightly to his. When he gave an immediate and instinctive struggle against her, she held him firm. She felt him falter under her hold as his mind flooded completely with memories that his younger self had been unable to share with him. Everything she’d stolen from him flew back into his mind with stunning, deafening clarity. 

Out of nowhere, there was sudden hard snap that filled his mind. A lightning crack of white hot furious pain that drove from his mind and into his stomach. He let out a cry as he fell out of Bad Wolf’s grasp and onto the tiled floor at their feet. One hand held at his head, and the other clutched across his belly.

“Well,” she breathed out with a smile at him on the floor and in obvious pain. “Didn’t quite think that one through, didn’t I?”

He looked up at her with confusion. “What?”

“Well,” she said with a roll in her eyes. “Marriage bond, Doctor. You and I can’t be snogging if one of those is in place, now, can we?” She held her hand down to him in an offer to help him to his feet. She grunted when he took her hand and tugged heavily on it to get up. She watched him shake himself and try to make sense of it all, then took his hand and led him toward the TARDIS.

“Come on, Doctor,” she said with a swallow. “Time to keep your end of the bargain.”

~~oooOOOooo~~

He stood at the doorway of the home and in front of the white panelled door for much longer than was anywhere near appropriate. Had any of the neighbours been watching, then they’d for sure have put a call into the emergency services by now. 

He didn’t know just why he was holding himself back and being so hesitant. Maybe he should give it a minute. He’d hardly had any real time to process everything that Bad Wolf had given him. It was overwhelming to say the very least, but by no means was it unwanted. Gods, it just meant he wanted it more … wanted her more … wanted every single part of it more. 

Would he be able to restrain himself in any way at all when he finally had them within arm’s reach? 

“Doctor,” Donna hissed from the footpath near the road. “What’re you waiting for; a gilded invitation? Get in there, Dumbo, go get them.”

He lifted his chin to look at the crown moulding over the door. He did not need an audience for this. But if he didn’t do it soon, Donna would shove him out of the way and do I ton her behalf. So with a deep inhale to prepare himself, he knocked on the door. His entire body buzzed with eager anticipation, which ramped up a higher lever when he heard footsteps approach the door. He smoothed the sides of his hair, and tousled the front just a touch to ensure it hadn’t flattened out too much.

The door opened, and the Doctor’s eagerness and excitement fled just slightly to see a woman he didn’t quite recognize answer the door. Before he could question whether or not he had the right home, a twinkle of recognition and of happiness flashed in her eyes.

“Lord Doctor,” she breathed out. 

“Ehm, yeah,” he managed out sheepishly as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “I was wondering if, ehm. If I could…” He winced, not often being caught out not being able to find his words.

There was a cheer and a bout of laughter from behind the woman, and she turned quickly to address the youngster who was obviously misbehaving in the hallway. “Young Mark, what have you been told about running in the house, child? “You could slip and get hurt!”

Mark did indeed slip and then slide and ended up colliding hard with the screen door of the home. His face smacked up and smooched against the thin flywire mesh that covered the door, and then he staggered backward with an oops and a chuckle. His eyes looked up at the man on the other side of the door to issue apology for interrupting, but as his mouth shifted to form the words, a look of recognition filled his eyes, as did tears of hope. He took a step closer to the door and held his hands up to press against the mesh. He looked up into the brown eyes of the Doctor.

“Dad?”

~~oooOOOooo~~


	93. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunited, and it feels so good...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This, my darling readers, represents to end of this part of the story. Only managed, what, 93 chapters?
> 
> I'm ending the story on this chapter for those of you who want a happy happy ending and wish to walk away from it with those happy happy joy joy feelings well and truly in place.
> 
> I thank each and every one of you for sticking with me through 93 chapters and 430K+ words. If you made it to the end, then I salute you. You've made this a joy for me to write with your words of encouragement, and your thread discussions, and even the criticisms and poking reminders of "you messed this bit up".
> 
> Now ... For those who want a continuation and a little more realism in just how that perfect reunion will actually go once the initial fires have died down, then that begins tomorrow with a new fic titled: "Reclaiming Gallifrey". This tale will be the aftermath of everything that's come this to this point and begins the evening of the Doctor's return. Things aren't nearly as rosy as they appear. The family Lungbarrow have a few things to work through as a family, and while doing that have a presidency to reclaim on Gallifrey. It's Rassilon and the Council versus Gallifrey's saviour and her former Lady president.
> 
> I really hope you choose to join me on this new (and definitely much shorter in length) tale.

~~oooOOOooo~~

Awareness drew slowly for Rose Tyler. It wasn’t the warm yellow sunlight and the sounds of singing birds through the open window that drew her toward consciousness. Typically sounds of that nature would keep her in a state of sleepy bliss. What forced the march toward wakefulness was the heavy grinding, thumping, and rattling of the garbage truck outside doing its weekly run. Aged trucks that squeaked and whined, the operators with their rough treatment of the bins on the curb, Rose was never guaranteed any form of lie-in on a Thursday morning when the trucks came about. With a hiss, a rattle, and a rumble just outside her window, Rose finally gave up trying to remain relaxed. She let out a small groan of annoyance and rolled from her side onto her back and lifted her arm to cover her eyes with the back of her hand.

There was movement at her side, a shift of weight that dipped the mattress and pulled her duvet just that tiny bit tighter than was comfortable, and Rose let out a sigh. “Morning sweetheart,” she cooed without dropping her hand from her eyes. “Did you have another dream about Unicorns?”

There was a breathy laugh of amusement. “Can’t say that I’ve ever dreamt of Tillogrippuls, Rose. And if I was to do so, I hardly think it would terrify me so much that it would drive me toward my _mother’s_ bed.” 

Rose froze in place. That was not her daughter’s voice, nor was it one that she even recognised. Slowly she drew her hand from her eyes and shifted her head to look at just who had decided to park themselves on her bed while she was sleeping. She let out a yelp of surprise and scrambled backward enough that she fell off the bed completely. On her butt on a cold wood floor, Rose was far less embarrassed than she was completely shocked. “Who – Who are you, and why’re you on my bed?”

A friendly face with a spray of freckles across her cheeks and nose peered amused blue eyes over the edge of the bed to look down at her. “My, you are a graceful one, aren’t you?”

Rose’s eyes narrowed and she pointed her finger up at her. “No need for the facetiousness,” she growled, more with amusement than shock at this point. Whomever this woman was, she was by no means any kind of threat. “Now answer my question before I get Brax or Romana to come sort you out.”

Blue eyes lifted in a roll, and then the face disappeared completely from view. There was a soft whoof from above that told Rose the woman had moved back up to lie with her head on a pillow. Her voice curled down from above. “It’s me,” she answered. “Romana. Sorry, I didn’t think.”

Rose immediately shot up from her butt to her knees to look over the mattress toward her. She wasn’t quite ready to launch back up onto the mattress, at least not until she got actual confirmation of what happened. “Romana?” she breathed out worriedly. “You – You _regenerated_?”

Romana nodded slowly as she picked at the soft fabric of her dress. “Yes,” she answered despite the answer being obvious. She rolled her head on the pillow to look toward Rose. “Last evening didn’t quite go as Braxiatel has planned it to go.” There was a sheen in her eye. Not quite a tear, but definitely emotion of some form. “In fact, it went quite sideways.”

Rose scrambled back up onto the mattress. She crawled up onto her knees, her hands curled under her chin. “What about Brax, and the Doctor? Are they okay?”

Romana nodded. “As good as can be expected, I suppose. Brax’s plan to protect his brother was successful, and the Doctor and his companions did come out relatively unscathed…”

She didn’t like the way Romana didn’t immediately extend her answer toward Braxiatel and how he had fared. She swallowed thickly. “And Brax?”

Romana exhaled. “He needs some time to come to terms with what happened.” She inhaled deeply and ran her hand up over her brow and across the top of her head to clutch at her brunette hair. “I wasn’t exactly kind to him when we returned.”

“how do you –“

“I was cruel,” Romana continued with a breath. “And I think I may have taken my anger on him too far.”

“It’s nothing a quick cuddle won’t fix,” she offered. “I know it’s the weekend and all, and the kids are home, but I can take them out and give the two of you some _alone_ time for a couple of hours.”

“He’s gone,” Romana said sadly.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Gone,” she repeated with a sigh. She sat up and then wriggled backward to press her back against the pillows. “I should have expected, really, that it was more than he could handle and so he had to run. Brax is very much like his brother when things become too much for him to immediately comprehend.” She swallowed and looked down to the soft fabric covering her knees. “Despite all his projected self-assurance and smug attitude, Brax is just as insecure – if not moreso – than the rest of us.” She looked up and took a breath. “A lot of things happened to him last night; things that tore him down to the nakedness of his very soul. My rejection of him only added to the cacophony of pain he already felt.”

“Oh, Romana,” Rose breathed out. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“It is,” she assured her in a voice that demanded no further question on it. “And I expect he needs some time to come to terms with his new circumstance.”

“A new body for him as well?” she questioned softly. It made sense that Brax probably went through a regeneration of his own. There would be no way that Rose could see him allowing Romana to get into any circumstance that would force her to regenerate.

“In a way, yes. I suppose you could say that,” Romana answered with her brows high on her forehead. “Same face, different man.”

Rose’s brows snatched downward into a confused frown. “I might need a power point presentation or a box of crayons for me to understand what you’re talking about,” she admitted. “A different kind of regeneration then?”

Romana petted Rose’s knee and gave her a smile. “We are a unique species,” she admitted with a faltering smile. “With as many adorable nuances to our physiology as you humans.”

From anyone else it would have been a condescending statement, but Rose took it very differently. She held open her arms and gave her a sympathetic gaze and smile. “Need a hug?”

“I need something,” Romana admitted. “Not entirely sure just what it is that I need, but yes. I’ll accept the offer of a moment of – oh how did Brax define it during that TV show we watched last month?”

“I believe he called it a…” she chuckeld and held up a finger to ask a moment. “Let me get this right and channel the old boy.” She put on a disdainful expression, thumbed at her nose and motioned the hold of a whiskey tumbler in her hand. Her voice fell to something close to masculine. “ _Well that’s a shameful girlie weeping huddle mass of makeup, hair, and fake lashes, isn’t it?_ Humans _, I don’t know…_ ”

Both of them snickered. Rose moved along the mattress to sit close to Romana’s side. “Closet snuggler he is, though,” Rose said with a firm nod of her head. “Loves a cuddle much more than he’ll admit.”

“Especially in his current incarnation,” Romana agreed softly. “We’ve shared experiences I never thought we’d share together. Experiences that his previous form considered too repugnant and messy to even think about engaging in.”

“I have been meaning to ask you about that,” Rose said with a giggle. “And am very curious to know if he’s anything like his brother…” she blew out a breath of admiration and awe. “Shall we compare the power of a naked Lungbarrow lad?” Rose watched Romana’s face redden and fall into an expression of horror and let out a laugh.

“You humans actually discuss things like this amongst each other in casual conversation?”

Rose shrugged.

Romana shook her head. “Well, no,” she said with a crease in her brow. “I’d much rather not, if you don’t mind.” She looked ahead of her. “Let the discussions of the _power of a naked Lungbarrow lad_ remain behind closed bedroom doors.”

“You really are no fun at all, are you?”

She shrugged. “I’m a Time Lady. All the fun was carefully carved out of the genetic sequence they used to loom me.” She drew in a deep breath and held it a moment. After a long exhale she drew in another breath and looked toward Rose. “How are you feeling, by the way?”

“Hungover,” she answered with a shrug. “Like I drank an entire bottle of Arcadian Whiskey and chased it with a bottle of Magnolia wine.” She lifted a knee to support her elbow to hold at one side of her head. “Though, I don’t recall emptying any bottles of booze last night. I do remember Brax stopped me from downing the really good stuff and handed me a bottle of wine.” She looked to her dresser, where a three-quarters full bottle of wine stood silently next to her hairbrush. “And I didn’t get to the bottom of that bottle.”

“Is the evening spotty in your mind, then?”

Rose inhaled deeply and shrugged. “If I try to remember it, I can. It’s just not at the forefront of my mind right now.” She leaned forward with a purse in her lips as her legs crossed to seat her in a relaxed Lotus position. She leaned her forearms on her knees. “I remember getting upset when I lost a good friend in the med capsule. I yelled at the Doctor and called him a few choice names.”

“Tried to drink Braxiatel’s hard stuff,” Romana added helpfully. “And managed a good deep swig of it before he was able to save both you and the bottle.”

She nodded and lifted her head to the ceiling. “Then I came up here with the wine.” She looked to the window and then to her bedroom door. “The Doctor came up, then. Came into my room…” Her eyes widened and her hands flew to her mouth. There was as much amusement as there was horror in her voice. “Oh my God, Romana. I kissed him! I kissed the old man…”

“I’m sure he’d be thrilled to hear you call him that.”

Her head fell into her hands. “God. I made a fool of myself last night, didn’t I?” She lifted her eyes up over her fingertips. “What else did I do?” Her eyes widened. “Oh, please tell me I didn’t try and sleep with him as well.”

“You don’t remember?”

Rose shook her head. There was panic in her eyes. “Please tell me I didn’t. Tell me I didn’t proposition him like that.”

“You didn’t,” she assured her. Her brows lifted curiously. “Although if you had, it would have made a marked difference on how the remainder of the evening went, I’d expect.” She turned on the mattress to set her feet on the floor beside the bed. She waited a moment, with her hands on the mattress either side of her. “My understanding is that you were furious with him, Rose, not willing to mate with him. Your rage was such that you ended up leaving the house in a furious state. Brax went after you.”

Rose gave a small smile. “Brax. Always lookin’ out for me, isn’t he?”

Romana let out a small huff. “Not always,” she admitted quietly. She pushed her hands into the mattress and leaned forward to give herself leverage to rise to a stand. She held her hands on her hips for a moment, her back to Rose, and let her mind drift over the myriad of events that happened over the past 24 hours. She forced a smile onto her face and turned on her heel. “Well, Rose. Perhaps it’s time we head downstairs to take tea and prepare to face our day. The children have been up for a while now. It’s time that we joined them.”

Rose’s brows pinched. Typically both of her children would wake her by leaping onto her bed demanding to be fed or to play. “They left me alone this morning?”

“We felt it best,” Romana said with a nod of her head. “You needed your rest. Carein has been tending to the children this morning and will likely assist you with their care for the remainder of the day until you’ve received full clearance form medical.”

Rose’s jaw fell and she watched Romana walk around the bed and head toward the door. “Clearance from who? From Medical?” She scrambled from the bed and onto the floor with little grace. “Romana,” she called out as she made chase down the stairs. “What happened to me that I needed medical assistance?”

Rose got caught up against the back of Romana, who had stopped short at the base of the stairs. The living room and hallway was crowded with a thick throng of Gallifreyan refugees, soldiers, medical personnel, and resistance members.

“What is the meaning of this?” Romana bellowed angrily as she pushed through the crowd of people toward the loving room. “The living quarters of Lady Rose is off limits to any non-approved personnel.”

Rose took a shocked look around herself. The rule that no one was to breach the kitchen door without express consent from Romana or Braxiatel had never been broken – well, except of course for the Doctor, but he saw rules as a challenge, not something to be adhered to – and so to see her home now completely overrun as it was, was jarring. Her own jaw gaped and flapped as she fought to find the words to either calm or agree with Romana’s ire.

Something that because very apparent quite quickly was the shell-shocked demeanour shared across them all. She saw tears, heard weeping, watched as stunned and unsteady Gallifreyans embraced and supported each other.

God. What had happened?

She pushed forward with sudden urgency. Without Braxiatel here to support her, Rose couldn’t let Romana face bad news on her own. She called out to the Time Lady as she pushed through the crowds. She finally made it to a small opening within the crowd and found Romana down on her knees, her delicate fingers twisting a dial on what Rose knew was a Gallifreyan radio set.

“Romana?” she asked gently, her voice a vow to offer any support she needed right now.

Romana lifted her head to Rose and followed her descent with her eyes as she fell onto her knees at her side. There was a tear in her eye and a small smile on her face. “It’s over,” she breathed out quietly. She took Rose’s hand in hers and gave it a tight squeeze. “It’s over.”

Rose hoped beyond all hope that what it was that was over was the war that had torn apart the people of Gallifrey, but she was far to scared to believe it. “What’s over?” she asked on a hoarse whisper.

Romana twisted to dial to put it at full volume, and then sat back on her haunches. Her hand didn’t leave the security of Rose’s hold at all, in fact she only held that hand a little tighter. “He did it, Rose. He saved us.”

The news report continued from the century’s old radio. Filled with hiss and static, the feed coming through from two hundred and fifty million light years away was a fairly jumbled mess of distorted Gallifreyan dialect. Rose considered herself fluent enough to survive comfortably and communicate without a translator, but she struggled to understand it through the static. Romana saw the pinch of struggle in Rose’s brow to understand it and began to softly and loosely translate it to her.

“They thought the battle lost,” Romana said against Roses shoulder, quiet to allow those listening to the radio would not have any for of distraction to the news. “The Daleks had broken through the barricades and taken Arcadia. Capsule fleets were struggling to hold the sky-trenches.” She drew in a breath to listen to more and exhaled just shortly. “Rassilon and the council … By the Gods, Rose. They were ready to abandon Gallifrey completely and consider the war lost.”

One of the soldiers thrust a fist into the air and let out a loud cry of victory. “Praise to the Lord Doctor,” he called out loudly to incite the rest of the group into cheering the same. “He is the saviour of us all.”

Rose held off on remarking how much that sounded like it would become a gospel chant. Instead she looked down to Romana, whose face was lit in an expression of pride and happiness. “What did the Doctor do?”

Romana swept her eyes toward Rose. “He saved it,” she answered. “he ended the war.”

Rose couldn’t hide the smile that spread across her face at the news. “How? How’d he do it?”

“I don’t know,” Romana sang out. “And right now, right at this very moment, it doesn’t matter. The important thing is that our home, our people they’ve been saved. The war is over.” She threw her arms around Rose’s shoulders in an excited hug. “He did it, Rose. That crazy man in his blue box actually did it!”

There were tears of happiness, and of relief, a sentiment shared by every single Gallifreyan in this room and beyond.

“We need to celebrate,” Rose managed out after a minute of weeping congratulations with Romana. She wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. “Let me. Let me try and put something together. I’m pretty sure the Southern Mountaineers have more than enough of their moonshine to share around…”

~~oooOOOooo~~

The hopeful sound inside his son’s voice, and his reddening eyes were close to his complete undoing. The Doctor’s hand shook as he moved it forward to press against the much smaller hand of the youngster against the flywire mesh that separated them.

His mind played the newly replaced memory of a glass-like barrier in between he and his family so many centuries ago. A memory that showed the red-rims and tears inside his child’s eyes as an expression of terror rather than the hope he was seeing now. Urgency and desperation rose within him quickly, and the Doctor tugged on the doorhandle of the locked screen door.

“Open up, open up, open up,” he chanted urgently. “Gods, please open.”

Carein quickly shook off her own lackadaisical effort at letting the Doctor into the house and stumbled to unlock the door under his urgent desperated urging. “Of course, Lord Doctor,” she breezed out breathily. “Just give me a moment to find the key.”

The Doctor wasn’t willing to wait a moment longer. With a snap of his hands and a flick of his coat, he pulled his sonic screwdriver from his pocket. There was a look of determination on his face as he held the device down toward the handle. His teeth grit together as he activated the device and heard the snick of the lock releasing.

His child was out of the door before he had a chance to open it himself. Mark immediately shoved open the door and weaved around it to launch himself into his father’s arms. The force of impact was such that the Doctor stumbled backward awkwardly, but he managed to remain on his feet to embrace the young boy. He had Mark off his feet and spun them in a twirl on the doorstep.

“Please don’t be just another visitor _Dad_ ,” Mark pleaded against his ear. “Tell me that you’re home. Please.”

“I’m home, Mark,” he vowed against his ear as he finally collapsed to his knees, his child held firm against his chest. “I’m home.”

“Promise me,” he whimpered against his cheek as he shifted his arms more tightly around his father’s neck. “Promise me that, Dad. Don’t wanna say good bye again.”

He made a further vow against his son’s ear in a fiercely passionate and hoarse whisper. His eyes lifted to the doorway, and to the woman who watched the reunion of father and son with obviously misty eyes. At her hip, a smaller child waited. A beautiful young girl with golden blonde hair and huge blue eyes. Oh, she may have been years younger than the woman he’d met on Messaline, but there was no mistaking that little pout and fathomless gaze. Still on his knees and holding his son, he held out his arm to her.

“Alirra, darling,” he cooed. “Papa’s home.”

Her curious eyes blew wide and her tiny little pout of wonder stretched into a wide smile. She squealed out for her Papa and fled out the door. A little tiny blonde comet, she collided hard with her father’s side. His cheek was quickly covered with soggy kisses from a tiny pair of lips, and his thigh became the trampoline for his daughter’s excited bouncing. Oh, he knew that leg was going to feel a considerable amount of bruising and pain from it over the next couple of days, but right at this moment, he couldn’t care less about it. It was worth it to see this adorable little girl so excited to see him.

He was graced with a couple of minutes to enjoy this tender reunion, but only a couple. Carein petted both children on their shoulders. “Okay Mark, Alirra. Let your father breathe and get back on his feet.”

Mark pulled back dutifully. Alirra, however, she shook her head and grunted in the negative, and circled her arms tightly around the Doctor’s neck. When Carein attempted to pry her away again, the Doctor waved her off with a quick flick of his hand. “It’s okay – I’m sorry, your name?”

“Carein,” she answered with a smile. “I assist her Lady Rose and his Lord Cardinal in …” She smiled. “Well, in a lot of things, actually.” She held down her hand to offer to assist him in getting to his feet. Alirra wasn’t quite as light as she looked. “Let me help you up.”

“It’s okay,” he said with a grunt as he eased himself up on knees that had near locked themselves in place on the cement. “Think I’ve got it.” He juggled his daughter on his hip to get the both of them more comfortable, and then looked to Carein with curiosity. “So you assist in many things? Are you a Nanny? A Housekeeper, perhaps?”

“Processing mainly,” she answered with a shrug. “As the refugees arrive, the ladies and I ensure they are properly processed and homed within one of the residential travel capsules in Lady Rose’s yard.” She pursed her lips. “When Rose is working with the medical teams in the Med Capsule, and we are at a break with our refugee cases, then I perform other duties as assigned by the Cardinal or Lady Romana.”

“I’m sorry?” he asked with wide eyes. “Who and what?” His eyes narrowed with question. “Refugees? Medical Capsule? Really, what are you talking about?”

She gestured toward the front door. There was an expression of unsureness in her eyes. Her voice was slow and careful. “I think that perhaps you might want to come inside, Lord Doctor. It appears that you aren’t wholly aware of what your Mate has been doing in your absence.” She walked to the door. “And just what importance it has to the Gallifreyan people.”

“Well this does sound interesting.” He looked to his daughter, who kept poking at his sideburn with a pointy little finger. “What has your mother been up to, darling? Hmmm?”

“While you were saving the planet,” Carein answered him as she pulled open the door. “Your mate has been helping save her people.”

He scratched at his sideburn with his free hand and followed behind her. “Yeah. Not quite sure how successful I was in my last attempt.” He sighed. “Although I’d like to think that we succeeded and that Gallifrey burns no more with the fires of war.”

She paused in the doorway and turned back to face him. “Lord Doctor,” she breathed out with a smile. “The war is over, and Gallifrey lives.” Her head tilted to one side with honest reverence toward him. “You saved it. You ended the war.”

His face lengthened with hope. “Really?” He grabbed her arm with a shaking hand. “Are you sure that it’s over? That it’s really over, and Gallifrey survived. The Daleks, they’re gone?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said with a wink in her eye as she tipped her ear toward the interior of the home. “Can’t you hear them, Lord Doctor? Can’t you hear them chanting and cheering?”

The Doctor quickly walked in through the doorway. His eyes were wide and his jaw slack as he took in the bustling and busy foyer and hallway. Men and women cheered, whooped, and sang in victory as they held up glasses filled with aromatic spirits. He stooped to let his daughter down on the floor and kissed her on top of her head. “Go play, darling,” he urged her gently with a light pat on her bottom. At her hesitation, he kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He stretched to his full height and slid his hands into his trouser pockets. “There are quite a few people here,” he noted with a lift in his brow. He leaned lightly to one side, toward Carein. “Just how many, exactly?”

“Five residential capsules that are equipped to handle twenty five thousand each. Medical capsule has a capacity of about the same, although it’s not used for residence.” She thought a little. “Staff, not including the Ladies Romana, Rose, nor The Cardinal, is fifty-strong in processing, seventy five in medical.”

“All Gallifreyan?”

“With exception to Lady Rose, yes. All of them from Gallifrey.”

He pursed his lips and nodded slowly. “So I never was the last, was I?” he remarked mainly toward himself. “Hidden in a little home in Chiswick, thousands upon thousands of them lived.” He shook his head with a smile. “I wish I’d known about this place.”

“Thought you did,” she remarked. “A younger incarnation of yours – your warrior incarnation – was here only yesterday.” She shrugged. “Memory gaps, Lord Doctor. You might want to have someone in medical assess you before this outpost shuts down.”

“Nah,” he drawled. “No need for that.” His quiet analysis of the hallway ended when a soldier up near the end held up his glass and called out to him to join in the festivities. He smiled gratefully and waved a hand to decline the offer.

“You really should join them,’ Carein urged him. “This is your victory.”

“It’s theirs,” he corrected her. “It’s all of theirs. This was a battle fought by all of us, not just me.” He smirked with a little bit of self-pride kicking in. “I just ended it.”

“After centuries on the front line, yourself.”

He blew out a breath. “Yes. Yes, you’re right.” His eyes fell upon the new incarnation of one of his oldest friends. Romana gazed at him with a smile from the back wall of the living room. She dipped her head in a bow of thanks, and then gestured toward a door beyond the kitchen. He assumed she was gesturing toward when Rose might be hiding.

“Are you quite sure you don’t want to take a moment with the soldiers, Sir?” Carein asked him.

“Later,” he breathed out. “Right now…” He gave her a desperate look of pleading. “Right now I just want to see my wife. Where is she?”

“Of course you do,” she said softly, her voice full of understanding. “She’s speaking with the medical teams as they prepare to wrap up operations. Come with me.” She walked forward, grinning, and then laughing as she was drawn into spins and twirls from Soldiers and refugees lined up along the walls. “Not now, my Lords,” she chided with humour. “Just because your job is done, doesn’t mean I’m not still busy.”

The Doctor kept his head low and his hands deep inside his trouser pockets in a somewhat vain attempt to remain inconspicuous and unrecognisable. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as good at hiding as he had thought, and too many times he was the victim of a hard slap on the back of the shoulder from the other men. Despite the hallway being relatively short, and the trek only needing to take about five seconds from door to kitchen, the constant stoppage from weaving and curling around the throng of people, and having to stop to accept and join in with cheers, it took a goof minute to make it back. The Doctor wondered if he was still the butt of the universe’s joke, and that it was being deliberate in keeping him away from his wife for as long as possible – if only to see him spontaneously combust from the frustration of it.

Eventually Carein was able to lead him into the Kitchen and toward a capsule that had been carefully parked just beyond the doorway. She stood off to one side and gestured for him to enter. He drew in a deep breath and adjusted the seat of his tie. He then smoothed the sides of his hair and ruffled the front of it to coax it to full messy attention. “How do I look?” he asked almost pathetically.

Romana’s voice chuckled in his ear from over his shoulder. “You look fine,” she assured him. “Not nervous in the slightest.”

He spun in place and rewarded her light tease with a wide and toothy smile. “Romana!”

“Doctor.”

He rubbed at the back of his head. “I’d really like to take a moment to have a bit of a chat and find out just what you managed to pull off here. How you managed to do it. How unbelievably proud I am of you that you did it…”

“But that can all wait until after you’ve seen Rose,” she finished for him. “I know. I understand.” Her eyes flicked to the doorway. A smile stretched across her face at a cheer about the Doctor being the saviour of their planet. “Well, now, _Gallifrey’s saviour_. Don’t let me keep you waiting. Go get her.”

His grin only widened. “Oh yes.” He turned back to the doorway and drew in a deep and grounding breath. He could do this. He was perfectly controlled and respectable, and perfectly able to properly restrain himself until he could get Rose alone…

…And then he’d completely snog her senseless. Well. Snog and maybe a little bit more than just snogging when the lights went out. Or maybe he’d leave the lights on. Rose was always incredibly beautiful to watch in those very intimate moments they shared.

Those kinds of memories flooded his mind as he stepped into the doorway of the medical ship and he may have let out the smallest of pathetic peeps at the graphic imagery his mind provided him with. That small peep caught the attention of at least thirty people wearing scrubs and uniforms in a variety of colours and shades.

“Yep,” he managed to croak out under their sudden scrutiny. “Probably not a good time to remember _that_ , was it?” He let his eyes shift across the group in search of her. His hearts pounded hard against his ribcage as he began to finally accept that this was it – that their separation was finally at an end. That in mere moments, he’d have his wife in his arms.

The reunion he’d pictured a million different ways over the years. The scenario he was most fixated on was the rush of them toward each other, their arms open wide to accept the inevitable bone-crushing embrace. He’d hold her up above him, and lift his head to watch her over him, her head thrown backward as she pealed a laugh so brilliant that it would sing in his ears for the rest of this life, and across every remaining regeneration he had. And then, once he finally set her feet back on the ground, he’d take her hand in his. Take her hand, lean into her with a smile, and say “run”. And together they’d flee into the closest cubby hole of privacy that they could find, so he could wrap himself completely around her, crush his mouth against hers, and curl her toes with the most soul-searing kiss he was capable of…

…Anything else that filled his mind post snog he needed to censor. Medical Capsules were tricky beasts to think in. Telepathic and then some. The machines _and_ their pilots.

So for now he’d stick with the soul-searing, toe-curling kiss against the wall as his go-to mental image.

He heard her laughter, and his head snapped quickly in her direction. Immediately, his breath fled and his brain began to fail him. The image of a happy go lucky fairy-tale reunion fell from his consciousness to be replaced by the hottest sensation of territorialism he’d ever felt.

Rose was leaned up against a gurney in the middle of the room. Her hands were held either side of her hips, and she clutched at the mattress with a tight grip as she chatted and laughed with a very handsome – and very young – Time Lord medic who leaned on the gurney beside her. Whatever that marauding male was saying to her was so brilliantly amusing to her, that Rose would lean completely forward in laughter. 

He stood still for a moment and simply watched her. For too long she’d just been a suppressed memory in his mind, the one that got away, or the image of regret for an action not taken, or a decision made wrong. He didn’t want to do that anymore – to make a wrong decision, or to let her walk away from him ever again.

With another peal of laughter from the target of his affection, the Doctor clenched his fists at his sides and made a deliberate and fast stride forward. There was no longer any form of deviation, nor wold he let anyone take his attention away from the task at hand. The stalk was only ten strides, but the distance felt so much greater than that. His breathing deepened, each breath lengthening with each step forward. His hands lifted slowly in front of him until, when he was finally directly in front of her, his fingers were able to immediately slide across her cheeks. His movement was fluid, his forward momentum flawless as his fingers stroked her cheeks and his face approached hers. She barely registered it was him, didn’t even get to say his name, before his lips were upon hers. He dipped his head to one side to draw her into a deep connection and inhaled a deep hard breath through his nose as one arm snapped tightly around her waist to pull her close.

Rose was so startled by his quick approach that she didn’t immediately respond or reciprocate his passionate embrace. Her eyes were wide open and her breath held completely. Her grip on the mattress of the gurney tightened. The smallest of surprised peeps flew from her mouth into his, and the Doctor quickly pulled back.

His eyes searched hers as he stroked her cheekbone with his thumb. Panic flooded him at that moment that he may have triggered a bond-guard. The last time he had kissed her, he’d done that. 

“Did that hurt you?” he asked worriedly. His lips were still only a fraction of an inch away from hers, and he desperately hoped that she would say it was all good so he could go right back to curling her toes’

“D-Doctor?” she peeped out with question. 

He rested his nose against hers and smiled with his lips against hers. “It’s me,” he assured her, although unnecessary. Of course, he was the Doctor. Who else would he be? “The one and only.”

“You – You’re here,” she breathed out with quickening breaths. “Really here?”

“Yes, _honey_ ,” he purred cheekily. He circled his other arm around her waist. “I’m home.”

Her arms lifted and very timidly circled around his neck. Her fingers toyed with the short hairs at the back of his neck. “It’s really you,” she breathed out almost inaudibly. She moved to pull away but found herself held tight in his arms. “The kids,” she said almost excitedly. “I have to find them for you. Have they seen you, yet?”

“They got to me first,” he said with a chuckle as he heard the pair of them squeal and bound into the room. He gave them a quick look, and then looked back to her. “You had to come in second to them. That okay?”

She nodded, the tip of her nose bumping against his. “Yeah,” she answered. “Just as long as I get a placing, yeah?”

“Always,” he vowed. He looked into her eyes with an expression of absolute and utter reverence. “My hearts beat for you, Rose,” he vowed fiercely. “Of course you do.”

“Say that again,” she said wit a hiccup in her voice.

He gave her a smile. There was part of him that really wanted to give her a tease about just what it was she wanted him to repeat, but now really wasn’t the time to do that. Not once in his body had he ever been able to actually say the words out loud to her. Now wasn’t the time to play with it.

“My hearts beat for you,” he repeated fiercely. He repeated it in his own language to further drive it home to her, and then spoke three words in her language that meant the same.

“I love you too,” she whispered in reply. “Doctor.”

He should have asked, but really, after declarations like that to each other, what was the point? He shifted his head forward to capture her lips once more. This time there was no hesitation. Rose immediately responded with a part in her lips, a sigh in her throat, and a slide of her arms around his neck.

He ignored the cheers that erupted across the medical deck of the ship. He ignored come of the more suggestive hoots and hollers from the doorway from soldiers who had partaken in perhaps a little too much fragrant liquor.

All he wanted to focus on was the touch of Rose’s mind against his, of the shifting of their mouths against each other, and of the knowledge that finally – after centuries of pain, loss, loneliness, war, and struggle – he was finally home.

Where they went from here was going to be an exciting adventure to embark on. This time their path would be entirely of their choosing – and it was going to be brilliant.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who and all that ...


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